


Saved by the bat

by monohighbrid



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: All Out War Arc (Walking Dead), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempt at Humor, Canon-Typical Violence, Cussing, F/M, I'm Sorry, Minor Character Death, Negan and Simon are still bad guys, Negan neither, Pre-Canon, Savior-centric, Season 6 to 8 spoilers, She's a BAMF, Simon is not as crazy as in the show, So is the OFC, This is getting really long, diverges from canon after, it starts pre-canon, love me some kudos :), mentions of rape/non-con, please comment and/or leave kudos if you liked it, they are besties, weasels itself into canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-04-14 12:53:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 32
Words: 93,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14136453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monohighbrid/pseuds/monohighbrid
Summary: Emma Montgomery learns the hard way that you can't survive in this world on your own. When the Saviors stumble across her she gladly joins their operation and quickly raises in their ranks getting Negan's trust and into Simon's bed. When a new found community simply refuses to fall in line and an all-out war is threatening to eradicate them all Emma needs to make some decisions to prevent that from happening, although it means betraying Negan. But it has to be her, she does have a history with Rick Grimes and his group after all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the frying pan into the fire

Emma hit the metal floor hard enough to make her teeth clatter and one of her already bruised knees split open. Her knee slipped on the now wet floor and she landed on her side when she tried to scramble away from the fucker who had thrown her back into her prison, an old tattered truck that smelled like blood and shit and death and dried spunk. The guy chuckled his stupid chuckle. He always sounded stupid, he sure wasn’t the sharpest knife in the cutlery drawer and threw her short and her top at her. She managed to glare at him and he laughed even more. Another guy, that son of a bitch that called himself Snake, because of course he did, dragged another of the sobbing messes hauled up with her away. At least it was one of the wailing ones, Emma could use the break. She wasn’t entirely heartless, but they all got it, getting gang-raped wasn’t fun, but would you just shut up about it? She slipped her tattered clothes on, wondering for a second why even bother, but in the end, she wanted to keep her last bit of dignity after all. She couldn’t really see through her good eye, probably on its way to swell shut, which really sucked since she couldn’t really see through her not swollen eye either.

  
“You okay?” Dalia asked in a small voice and Emma sighed when she settled next to her. Everything hurt.

  
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she lied. Of course, she wasn’t, Dalia knew that. She wasn’t fine either. None of them were. Dalia looked the worst of them and Emma was sure she wouldn’t make it more than another couple of rounds with the guys. Not that these assholes cared. They would just throw her away when she was wasted, Emma hadn’t witnessed it yet, but she was sure of it, probably not even ending her properly so she would turn and roam the streets till someone would finally release her. Emma was their newest edition. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the reason you don’t nomadize on your own through this shit world. She hadn’t by choice. Her group had left her for dead. She couldn’t blame them, actually. She had been shot at with a tank. What were the odds she would get out of that shitshow unscathed? Considering. Who needed 20:20 eyesight anyway? As their newest toy, she was pretty popular and she was well aware that her defiant attitude only encouraged them even more, but acting otherwise just wasn’t her. She would break eventually, and man did that prospect suck. Maybe, only maybe, if she would get one of them alone she had a chance. She could handle one guy easy enough. There still was a fight in her, but going by that rate not for very much longer. The little thing got thrown back in and to the relief of everybody, this was it for today since the doors fell close with a loud bang and minutes later the truck started moving. That was one of the most annoying things. Where the hell were they going? Did these guys just drive around looking for fresh meat? Was there a destination? Emma always had been a curious asshole, and this unnerved her more than Cindy’s constant crying. She wasn’t crying now, and Emma was thankful for that, but after a couple of minutes, she actually got worried. She got up and swayed a bit on her feet, she hadn’t eaten in two days, and stumbled over to where the girl lay curled into a ball.

  
“Cindy?” she asked and turned her on her back and. “Fuck!”

  
“What is it?”

  
“She’s dead,” Emma just deadpanned. Dalia, Tina, and that Spanish girl, that wasn’t talking, scrambled away from the body like it was radioactive all of the sudden, and Emma palmed her face. More like a ticking time bomb. Well now, it couldn’t be in these guys interest that one of their attractions ran amok among the goods, could it? Emma made her slow way to the front of the truck that was shaking like crazy (seriously, did they drive over rails or something?) and hammered against the metal wall. After a while she stopped and waited, nothing happened. She repeated the spiel two times and finally gave up. She wasn’t insane, not yet.

  
“Fuck,” she repeated eloquently.

  
“What we gonna do? What if she turns?” Tina asked and looked at Cindy’s dead body. Tina was one of the nice ones, very soft. Emma always wondered how and why and motherfucking how she had made it that far in Zombieland. Maybe she’d had some tough, strong muscle to protect her.

  
“You don’t look, that’s what you do and cover your ears,” Emma said. Yep, she was about to do something nasty and she had absolutely no interest in doing so. At least these fuckers had left her her boots. She slipped into them now and by the look that Dalia gave her she knew exactly what was going to happen. For the first time ever Emma was happy that the truck was mostly dark. She dragged Cindy, who weighed nothing at all, to a corner, so she could get leverage from a wall.

  
“I’m so going to throw up. Sorry,” she mumbled and stomped her foot as hard as she could on the girls head. It wasn’t like she had never kicked in skulls before, but that had been walker skulls. Somehow these SOBs were all mushy and soft and it was not so much of an effort, especially when they had been dead for a while. But this was basically a human being, not turned yet, with red blood and all that other tissue that looked better inside a body than outside. The first kick caused Tina to cry out, but soon Emma heard nothing else but the sickening sound of crunching bone. After two other kicks, a certain squishy wetness was added. She missed the head once and broke the girl's arm in the process. Great, now she not only kicked her head in, no, now she had mutilated her even further. One last kick for good measure and Emma stumbled away. Yeah, that was the right time for a little dry heaving. Not that there was much in her stomach anyway. She spat out some bile and leaned at the wall. She was so done with that place. She sat there for a while and listened to Dalia trying to console Tina. Tina and Cindy had been friends or something. Emma didn’t know if from before or if they bonded over mutual, sexual assault. So now she was dead. Like they probably all would be soon. Emma pushed the dark thoughts away. She stared at the body like the morbid creep she could be on occasion. The open break in Cindy’s arm gave her ideas, and no, she would not go there. She was not that desperate. Whom was she kidding, she was. She watched the three figures in the back of the truck, huddled together. She went this far, why stop now? She stared at Cindy a while longer. She had done worse with walkers and this was not so different after all. Cindy was already dead, she wouldn’t mind. Emma knee-walked to the body. That her head somehow clanged to the ground when she rolled her on the back didn’t make her want to hurl again. She counted it as a plus.

  
“What are you doing?” Dalia asked.

  
“Shut up,” Emma just said. There were remnants of a face. Emma kept her half-open good eye busy looking elsewhere when she stuck her finger in the spongy mess that used to be a person’s brain. Thank god she didn’t have to look for long. She pulled out a skull fragment that was reasonably sized and had a rather sharp edge and removed the skin and the hair.

  
“What are you doing?” Now Dalia’s tone was accusing, and she was nearly yelling. What answer did she expect? Rehearsing a dance number?

  
“I said shut the fuck up,” Emma now nearly growled. It took some effort, a lot, actually, but in the end, Emma held half of deceased-Cindy’s ulna in her hand. Maybe it was half of her radius, Emma wasn’t a doctor, and it didn’t matter as long as it had a nice, sharp, pointy end. The others stared in horror and Emma got it. No hard feelings. Not only did she just do what she just did, she also had managed to get a lot of blood onto herself, not only her hands but also her thighs and her face. Now she only had to wait till the truck stopped and Snake or anybody else would come to fetch one of them and she would put that DIY bone knife in his throat. They carried sidearms. She would grab it, shoot the others. That was the plan. It wasn’t very sophisticated and sure as hell very flimsy, especially with her impaired eyesight, but they wouldn’t expect her to try anything and she was a hell of a shot. That was all she needed. Yeah, that and luck, assloads of luck. So she sat down and waited. To her surprise, she didn’t have to wait long.

Surprising was that the truck stopped while it was still light out there. Their captors preferred to perform their atrocities in the cover of night and usually drove around all day. You couldn’t hear shit in that truck, but Emma sure as hell could hear yelling and screaming now, and then shots. What the hell was going on? One round of what must have been an automatic gun perforated the wall of the truck and sent ricochets flying around everywhere. One hit the Spanish girl in the forehead, one grazed Tina’s thigh and one hit Emma in the shoulder. It went right through. It wasn’t even the worst pain she felt in the last couple of days but she groaned in pain, nonetheless. Worst of all was that it was the shoulder of her strong arm. The pain shot down her arm and hand and she was barely able to grab the bone anymore. She had the feeling it wouldn’t matter anyway since obviously a war had broken out outside and bullets beat bone every time. The gunfire seized after a couple of minutes and she could hear people walk around the truck. Now with nice holes in it, she could hear voices. She could even make out words.

  
“What a mess,” one man said and got an uncommitted grunt as a response.

  
“Check the cargo,” another man ordered and Emma got alarmed. That would be them. Before she could react in any way the doors were opened and way too bright sunlight made her squint her eyes. She tried to shield them with one hand.

  
“What the fuck,” someone said and she looked up. She was eye to eye with a rather brute looking black guy who had a rifle shouldered and stared at her like he’d seen a ghost. Emma was close to asking him if he had never seen a blood-covered woman before, something she found highly unlikely in the current state the world was in.

“Get the boss!” he yelled at someone and tried to grab her by her leg. Emma snapped. She was high on adrenaline ever since Cindy’s untimely demise and she had just enough. So be it that it was stupid and that she would probably die, at least it would be over then. She kicked the guy, hard, right in the face and he cursed under his breath and tried to climb into the truck. She kind of tackled him and they both rolled down onto the road. To her luck, he hit his head and was dazed which gave her enough time to straddle him. She found his knife, put it on his throat and was ready to just push it down and slice him open when she heard steps. Ignoring the pain in her shoulder she pulled his holstered handgun and aimed at whoever would come around the corner of the truck without releasing any pressure from the guys’ throat. It was a bunch of people she had never seen in her life and it wasn’t really encouraging that they all were men. She kind of had it up to here with all-men groups recently. The man in charge was easy to spot since he carried himself like a leader and he looked like he would do Old Spice commercials in his spare time. He was really tall and Emma groaned when she had to lift her arm a bit higher to readjust the aim. She wouldn’t be able to keep that up much longer. The second she had been spotted she got the same blank faces the black guy had sported merely thirty seconds ago and yeah, she knew how she must’ve looked: a skinny, dirty, blood-covered, young woman in tattered, yellow shorts with a split lip, an impressive, swollen shiner, a dead eye and a scar on her face sitting on top of one of his men and waving around a gun. Not to mention that she was bleeding from her shoulder. She was bleeding pretty heavily, come to think of it. Fucking goddamn great. The leader recovered first. He lifted his hands up in a pacifying gesture and stepped a step back.

  
“Woah,” he said. A couple of rifles now aimed at her and he casually pushed the one next to him down. His men weren’t happy, some meaningful glances were exchanged, but finally, all muzzles went down. Bunch of pussies, Emma thought, because seriously how much of an actual threat was she? He peeked into the truck where Dalia and Tina tried to disappear into the walls or something. He looked a couple of times back and forth between Emma, the corpses, the two others, and Emma again.

  
“No one’s here going to hurt you,” he finally said in that tone you used to sooth dogs. Emma glared at him. At least she tried.

  
“Sorry, if I don’t quite believe you,” she said, and she was pretty proud of herself that her voice sounded steady and clear. She hadn’t expected that. He looked in the truck again.

  
“Did these assholes have you all locked up in there?” so he changed tactics now. Didn’t matter much since the first signs of unconsciousness crept into the edge of her vision. All he had to do to overpower her was to wait.

  
“Something like that,” she said.

  
“Well, then I am happy to tell you that we got them all. Come on, Princess, let my man go and give me the gun. You can barely hold it up as it is,” he started to walk closer to her and Emma had to make the decision to shoot him and at least take one of them with her or, well, not. In the end, she didn’t shoot. He took the gun away from her rather gently and looked her straight in the face with a genuine smile. Emma stared at his mustache. It was time to pass out now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma meets her new lord and savior

When she came back to it, she was obviously in the back of a car and someone pressed, not very gently, something onto her shoulder. She stirred up. Bad idea. Nausea and dizziness couldn’t decide who would have the upper hand, and she dropped down onto somebody’s thighs.

  
“Hold still,” a woman said. So, she and the girls weren’t the last females on earth after all. She wanted to look up but there was something on her face. After she clumsily removed it, she couldn’t come up with a thought when she stared at a cold, wet cloth. The woman snatched it away, folded it and put it back onto her swollen eye. She could hear someone move in the front seat.

  
“Welcome back to the land of the living, Princess. Let Arat do her thing. You lost quite a bit of blood. Try to rest or something,” it was Mustache.

  
“Where are you taking me?” she tried to grab the cloth again, but to be completely honest, she was barely able to lift her hand.

  
“Home,” the guy said. Emma wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, but she couldn’t dwell since she was slowly slipping away again. The next hours or days or maybe weeks were kind of blurry. They arrived in some sort of factory and Mustache carried her like she weighed nothing into a makeshift infirmary. The next thing she remembered was a guy sitting next to her donating blood to her straight from the source. It had kind of creeped her out. She had tried to pull out the I.V. needle but a balding guy in a white coat, probably a doctor, had swapped her hand away. She had some recollection of Dalia and Tina hovering over her a couple of times looking worried, and she heard the doctor say words like infection and fever. At some point, Mustache and a man with a black leather jacket stood around in the room and talked obviously about her, but she couldn’t really remember anything, despite Mustache telling the other guy that they got what they deserved and the other guy wondering what the fuck happened to her face.

  
She was now sitting on a bed in a room that was furnished like a one-room apartment and stared at an incredible ugly painting of a clown. She still had no idea where she was or what she was doing here. The doctor’s name was Carson and every time she had asked him something he had clamped up and that was all kinds of not reassuring at all. Same with the nurse, youngish, pretty brunette that went by Sherry. She looked down on her naked legs and absently scratched the newest addition to her scar collection. She wasn’t even aware that she had a cut on her left upper thigh, but here they were. There was a knock on the door. Whoever had the politeness to knock it ended there because the person already barged in. It was Mustache and two others. He held something in his hand and after holding it in her face for several seconds, Emma realized that it was pants. Yep, she sat here in her underwear.

  
“The boss wants to meet you, Princess” he grinned. “We’ll give you some privacy,” with that he barged out and Emma put on the Jeans. They fit rather well, although they were pretty tight and Emma preferred looser pants. They were more comfortable, to kick and to run away mostly. She stepped out of the room where Mustache loitered with his back against the wall. He didn’t particularly look like he wanted to be there, but his face lit up a bit when he saw her. Emma frowned.

  
“After me,” he said and walked away. He had a bounce in his step.

  
“I have a name, by the way,” Emma said. She was shooting suspicious glances at the guys following them. Security was pretty tight considering she was a 110-pound chick with no weapons. He looked down at her. She was tall, for a woman, little over 5’11, but he had at least 5 inches on her. He grinned.

  
“I know you have a name. Knew an Emma once, didn’t end well. So I will just keep calling you Princess. I have a name, too, by the way. Since you’ve never asked.”

  
“We barely met.” Emma wasn’t asking for the name. She was not taking that bait. He told her anyway.

  
“It’s Simon,” he said and led her up some stairs. Emma wasn’t reacting, and he looked to her just to catch her trying to hide a laugh. She shouldn’t laugh. It was funny, but these people might be homicidal maniacs that only needed an excuse to start waterboarding.

  
“What?”

  
“Nothing,” Emma said. Simon looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

  
“You can shove your ‘Simon says’ jokes right up that little ass of yours, _Princess_ ,” he said emphasizing the last word. Well damn, he got her. “And keep the sass down with the man. Got the feeling this might be an issue,” they entered a room that some might call opulent. It was opulent by end-of-the-world standards. That was for sure. Doe-eyed girls with very little clothing stared at her when she entered. She was so enticed by the view and her thoughts going in the general direction of ‘what the fuck is going on here’ that she didn’t realize that Simon had stopped and she ran straight into his back. He sighed and turned around glaring down on her with a scolding look. After a short flick of his eyes to the girls, he bent down to her.

  
“That’s a conversation for another time. Word to the wise, never call them a harem,” he said in a low voice, turned and knocked on a door. Well, now he waited for an answer and after someone, the boss of the Russian mafia apparently or maybe an Arabic sheik, called to them to come in, he opened it. The room was even nicer than the first one, furnished like a hotel suite or something, with a canopy bed and a leather sofa. The theme was obviously grey. But the centerpiece was the man standing in the middle of the room. Asking Emma he didn’t really look like much. He was kind of handsome, little older, maybe pushing fifty. He wore brown cargo pants and a grey shirt that was a little greasy. She almost was disappointed that he didn’t wear a suit.

  
“Ah, there she is,” he said in a booming voice and opened his arms while he strolled towards her taking his sweet ass time, and yeah, she could see it. Emma had lived a con life all her life, learned all the tricks from her Dad and continued his legacy after she had been kicked out of the Navy, and the most important part in a con was reading the people right. This man was a conman himself, more show than anything else. Someone who liked the attention and perfected a role he probably even played when no one was watching. Emma was no fool. The leader of a bunch of guys like Simon and his minions was probably not a nice guy, and the fake smile on his face that never bothered to reach his eyes was a fine indicator for that. He put an arm around her shoulder and somehow led her to the sofa. She didn’t like it, not one bit, and he smelled like cigars and Old Spice which reminded her of an exceptionally handsy art teacher in Junior High. It also was a belittling gesture that bothered her more than Simon calling her Princess. She didn’t show, though. He made her sit and sat down opposite of her. He leaned back, totally relaxed, and eyed her up and down with an intrigued half-smile.

  
“I am Negan. I should have said it earlier, but you were in a pretty shitty condition until recently, so welcome to the Sanctuary,” Emma’s good eye flipped from Negan to Simon and back. Maybe keeping the sass down was a good thing, at least for now, so she swallowed the question what kind of name Negan was.

  
“Thanks,” she said instead. “And thanks for patching me up, and saving me, in the first place, I guess,” she added. Her Momma hadn’t raised a cavewoman.

  
“No fucking problem, sweetheart. So, Simon and I are having a bet. Why don’t you put back all that hair of yours and tell us what in the fucking hell screwed up your face like that,” and excuse me? Maybe tuning the sass down wasn’t an option after all. She looked at him, angrily. He laughed.

“Whooho, you didn’t like that one, didn’t you? But seriously, can you even see shit with that eye?” she glared another minute or so until he lifted his hands calmingly. So okay, the guy was a grade A asshole on top. How unexpected. “Okay, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to be an asshole. But no harm in asking,” he said and Emma glared some more. Then she aggressively shoved her hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ears.

  
“No, but there were like 5 million different ways to ask this question, literally,” she mumbled and turned her face to give him a better view. Screwed up was a bit of a strong word. The scar went from the middle of her forehead over her left eyebrow and eye down her temple. It looked ugly since the cut hadn’t been clean and she hadn’t been able to stitch it up. She actually had resorted to doing it the Rambo way, and boy had that hurt, so she had a little burn scar tissue surrounding the scar on top. You could see black spots from leftover gunpowder when you looked closely. Emma had brown eyes, well had one brown eye, since the other was a dim, grey mess. The heat of the blast wave of the explosion had burned the cornea and left a crater landscape in its wake. She didn’t even have an iris or a pupil anymore, and she couldn’t indeed see shit with it, just differences between light and dark.

  
“Well shit,” Negan said and seriously, what kind of name was that? “That is some fucking serious war paint you’re wearing there. You shouldn’t hide this shit behind your bangs. Let people see what a fucking badass you are. They see that and no one will ever gonna fuck with you. I’m not even lying, but even I'm little scared of you right now,” okay, that was most definitely an exaggeration, but overall there was real respect in Negan’s voice.

  
“What were the theories,” Emma asked. She let her hair fell back into her face. She wasn’t ashamed of the scar, but Negan watching it like an interesting new species was making her uneasy.

  
“Theories?”

  
“How I got it,” she added.

  
“Simon thinks someone did this to you. I think you had an accident, maybe a car crash or some shit,” Negan said. Well, in their own way both were kind of right. Someone did this and the accident being getting blown up by a tank.

  
“Got shot at. With a tank,” she said with a shrug. Negan leaned forward and rubbed his beard. His eyes were sparkling.

  
“Are you serious? You ain’t shitting me right now, are you?” he turned to Simon. “Can you believe that? Wow, that is some origin story. When did that happen?”

  
“Couple months ago, maybe two,” no one will be seated during the interrogation part of the evening.

  
“Shit, you healed up good. I can tell you that,” that was almost a compliment. “The motherfuckers got what they deserved?”

  
“Yes, they did,” she had seen the bodies. Most of them had met their fair end.

  
“And your friends?” here we go.

  
“My friends?” Emma played innocent. If he wanted to know if there were people outside waiting for her he would have to work for it a little harder than that. But what did he expect? Snake and his buddies hadn't been exactly her buddies, too.

  
“I can tell you have more balls than most of my men, but no way in hell you lived that long without a group or something. Where are they?” Emma shrugged and scratched her hand.

  
“Some died, some of them got away I guess. But they left me for dead. I mean, it was a tank after all. Never found them since. I was surviving on my own, well, until recently,” now Negan got serious, really serious.

  
“Now you listen. We have very strict rules abiding rape here. That shit won’t fly. No exceptions. Anyone ever tries to force himself on you? The motherfucker's gonna die. And don’t think I won’t take that shit seriously. You can always come to me with that,” strangely creepy, heart-warming serious. Death penalty on rape, pretty heavy stuff. And he obviously expected her to stay with them.

  
“Okay,” she just said, a little edgy.

  
“I have to say I admire how you take it. You are a bit of a fucking legend around here already, did you know that? Your girlfriends kind of saw to that. Wait until they hear the tank story, a motherfucking tank. First you make yourself a homemade bone knife out of a member of the recently deceased using her skull, then you overpower one of the assholes that Simon likes to call men albeit being fucking half-dead already and finally you put a gun on Simon, which honestly usually doesn’t go over very well, but instead of asking for your fucking head he thinks you would make a good addition to our merry group of Saviors. And I have to say, I for once agree with that asshole.”

  
“I did say that,” Simon added.

  
“Saviors?” Emma asked. Jesus H. motherfucking Christ on a popsicle. She was about to join a biker gang. Finally, what the preacher in Sunday school always warned her she would end up doing if she wouldn’t let Jesus in her heart, came true. Negan made a world-embracing gesture.

  
“The Saviors. I, Simon, the good people coming the other day to save your ass. We keep the area safe and clean from roamer activity and the communities we help provide us with all we need. It’s a win-win,” he got up and wandered to a booze cabinet. He actually just admitted that he was blackmailing Danegeld, but who was Emma to judge. He didn’t only go to the liquor cabinet to pour himself a drink. He rather casually focussed her view on a baseball bat leaning against the cabinet wrapped tightly with barbed-wire. That would really screw with his batting. His eyes flicked between Emma and the bat.

  
“You like what you see?” Not particularly. She wasn’t answering, though. He picked up the bat. Now that explained the wrapping around his left wrist. That man watched one Kansas City Royals game too many.

“That’s Lucille,” he said and inwardly Emma palmed her face. Outwardly she displayed top-shelf acting. She looked like it was the most normal thing in the world to name a baseball bat. He kind of held that thing into her face and she wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

  
“She’s a sucker for rules, that one. You follow the rules, you be just fine, snug as a motherfucking bug in a motherfucking rug. But if not,” he made a little swooshing gesture towards her head. She didn’t flinch. He definitely had a violent streak and baseball bats were as violent as you can get (well, apart from maybe curbing) and now he was casually threatening her for no reason whatsoever. Goddamn lunatics, always thriving in the apocalypse. Well, Emma didn’t scare easy. And she knew what he was doing there.

  
“You don’t need to do this. You know that, right?” she just said locking her one good eye with his. He looked confused, and then intrigued and there was that fake smile again.

  
“Doing what?” he asked and leaned back. He put Lucille on his shoulders, and yes she just referred to that thing with a name in her head. Fucking great.

  
“I get it,” she said pushing some bangs out of her face. “You invested some serious resources in me. Meds, food, manpower. I guess antibiotics aren’t easy to scavenge. Now you want your money’s worth. You want me to work it off? Earn my keep? I am down with that. I have nowhere to go and honestly I hate being out there on my own. So, all you had to do was ask, instead of trying to subtly intimidate me into submission,” he shared a look with Simon who just kind of shrugged and looked down at her. He put the bat down and leaned it on the couch.

  
“Damn, you are something else,” he said and palmed his beard. “You thought that was what I was doing?” she gave him a look.

  
“ _Was it_ something else?” he chuckled. “So, what do you want me to do?”

  
“Normally I would ask you for a nice, solid kneel, but in your case, you can do something else for me,” even Simon looked surprised. He and the wives actually were the only ones who didn’t kneel, who weren’t Negan. He wondered what his boss was planning.

  
Ten minutes later Emma stood next to Negan in some kind of factory hall surrounded by people who, except for Negan and Simon, invariably looked scared out of their wits. So Negan was leading by enforcing fear, always good, long-term leader qualities. She could respect that. Emma had survived so far because yep, she was an opportunist, always hanging her little flag in the wind. She wasn’t a coward, never shied away from fights, but if someone expected her to be the meek little thing with the big eyes she had been that thing. If someone expected her to be the Good Samaritan, she gave away half of her food. If someone expected her to fight for a cause that wasn’t actually hers, she would gladly pick up her arms. Emma was whatever the group ensuring her survival wanted her to be. It was that simple. She wasn’t ashamed of that. She was switching allegiances as easily as she had switched T.V. channels when the world had been intact. So whatever Negan wanted, he was the strongest player in the game and until she found something better, she would stand behind him. Because why the hell not? When some guy pulled another beaten up guy into the center of the hall Emma just looked mildly intrigued. Her best guess was some sort of punishment was about to take place, maybe even more than that, and she was supposed to do the deeds. The guy had an ugly scar all across the left side of his face and Negan, after several minutes of peacocking finally broke into fucking song about how the guy had broken the rules again and was now facing the ultimate punishment. Emma wondered if Negan would punish the girl, too, who apparently had cheated on Negan, because matrimony? These people were strange. The guy was doomed. She hadn’t even gotten his name. Probably Chad, he looked like a Chad. She was way too busy studying faces and reactions. There were soldiers and there were workers. The soldiers had guns and all of them looked scared as well. She would need to be careful here, that was for sure. She suddenly realized she was the center of attention. Well shit. She felt a nudge on her arm and looked down to see a gun held in her direction grip first. It was Simon’s gun. At least no one expected her to bash Chad’s skull in with Lucille, thank God, because that would have only led into embarrassing herself. Negan’s voice was low.

  
“Well, now I don’t expect you to,” she aimed and pulled the trigger. One clean shot right through Chad's skull. Instant death. Even Negan looked surprised. She gave Simon the gun back who essentially stared down on it for a couple of seconds. No one actually expected her to shoot the man without fighting a fight, didn’t they? She was close to asking what? Even assuming she would have refused the guy was dead meat and why not just do it and get an advantage out of it? Negan downright grinned at her. He put an arm around her leading her away from the carnage.

  
“You and I will get along very fucking well,” he said.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma gets grounded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made up an Outpost. It's an abandoned hospital. I called it Armitage Outpost because I just like the sound of it :)

“Okay, Dwight,” Emma popped a piece of apple in her mouth and looked down onto the marketplace.

  
“Isn’t he married?” Arat asked and did the same. They were supposed to “watch over” things, Emma’s least favorite past time since seriously, what could the people downstairs do? They just tried to get by day by day and Emma graciously ignored several violations already, because come one. No one should lose a finger over a fucking apricot.

  
“It’s a hypothetical game, right? You started it.”

  
“Fine, no. He’s too skinny for my taste. Sherry’s a ten, though. Did he knock her up in high school or something?” Emma shrugged.

  
“I have no idea.”

  
“Okay, let’s get to the really interesting ones. Negan?” she asked and Emma scoffed.

  
“Probably super weird, kinky stuff. Let his bunnies take care of him. You?”

  
“Too high up management for my taste. Thinking of which. Simon,” Arat looked at her conspiratorially. Emma rolled her eyes.

  
“The thought had been had.”

  
“You know he checks out your ass?”

  
“He checks out everybody’s ass. I think he checked out Fat Joey's ass the other day.”

  
“He didn’t bring shorts for Fat Joey in which his ass looks great,” Emma gave her a half-amused, half-annoyed look. The shorts in question had been the exact replica of the ones she wore when he found her, yellow and with a winking smiley on her ass. It had been a joke, but Emma had felt strangely touched. But half of the people here thought she was screwing Simon already and some of the Saviors despised her for that, thinking she was getting an advantage out of it (okay, she kind of did and she didn’t even have to fuck him for that, sue her), so she actually hated that he made it worse. There had even been a fight. Three months she was with the Saviors, and yep, totally bollocks lunatics, nearly every one of them. She had seen Negan bash in a skull of a man because some drops had been light and Simon hunting down a group of people with surgical precision just because they tried to get away. Jesus, these people were really particular about people not getting away. Emma kept mostly to herself. She was famous for being the quiet one, just talking to Arat, Simon, Negan of course, and her immediate superior Ryan. She didn’t like Ryan. She didn’t trust him either, and she always wondered why he was number four in the chain of command. The guy was a weasel.

  
“Princess?” Emma turned her head. Since Negan, may his soul burn in hell where it belonged for that, had started to call her Princess, too, it kind of stuck. Emma was pretty sure that half of the people didn’t even know her real name. “Simon wants to see you,” Dave said. Dave was one of the interchangeable Red Shirts in Simon’s vicinity. She knew his name by accident. She had played poker with him the other night. Otherwise, he would just about to be another polite nod in a weakly briefing she couldn’t put a face to.

  
“Uh, he wants to see you,” Arat cooed, and Emma hit her over the head. Arat chuckled and focussed back on the market below. Emma threw her half-eaten apple into the hands of a little girl, maybe seven or eight years old. Children in the Sanctuary were treated like dogs on medieval feasting table, you ignored them until you’ve got annoyed by them and gave them a kick. Simon was in his office, meaning the back of the Dodge Ram he let himself chauffeured around. He looked the usual, relaxed and reclined, fucking asshole.

  
“Hey,” Emma said leaning against one side. “You summoned me?”

  
“Two things actually,” he said skipping polite greetings. “First, I know I can’t tell you what to do with your points, or to stop handing out free stuff to the proletarians, but seriously, Negan won’t like it if he finds out eventually,” Emma thought a second about that, even recalled giving the apple to the girl earlier and rolled her eyes.

  
“Wow, if you think I will start a communist movement by handing out half eaten peaches to fucking kids you need to pick up a book or two because this is not how this kind of shit works,” she answered. Simon glared at her.

  
“I’m not the one in charge when it comes down to this.”

  
“And I can handle Negan. Second thing anything important?” they weren’t exactly on good terms at the moment. It varied from friendly banter to I hate you and I want to kill you to let's fuck already on a weekly basis.

  
“You won’t come to Armitage this week.”

  
“Wait. What?”

  
“Seems you mouthed off to Negan one time too many,” Simon deadpanned and looked somewhere over her shoulder.

  
“So he’s grounding me? Literally?” that got a grin out of Simon.

  
“Seems like it. And you are on wife duty for the unforeseeable future,” he added. Emma wasn’t saying anything to that right away. For most wife duty was just boring. You sat around and watched Negan’s girls talking about nail polish and underwear, and followed them when they decided to parade around the compound. They never talked good stuff about Negan, which sucked if you asked Emma. She could use some gossip about the man that didn’t include battery and murder. But in her case, it was psychological warfare on top and Negan knew that. The girls looked at her with pity, like the scar in her face disfigured her big time. Tanya once even looked at her sadly and said what a shame. It took Emma all Yoga breath exercises she ever learned not to slap her face. Negan would have, and he definitely would have, taken her hand for that, probably with Lucille for maximum gruesome effect. One might think in a world as ugly as this a little scar was no big deal and most of the times it wasn’t, but Negan’s’ bitches were spoiled. Didn’t change the fact that hanging around the wives usually ended with her moping in a corner and feeling stupid that she let this bother her. Sometimes she was just a 27-year-old girl after all.

  
“Fine,” she said annoyed. She sounded like a teenager short of a tantrum and she didn’t like it. “But this really screws with my points.”

  
The point system was something Emma, on the one hand, could understand and respect, but on the other hated with all her heart. At least no one besides Negan and Simon could take points away from her. Not like the workers, poor suckers, where any given asshole could take away points for no reason. Emma now made a show of being actually rueful, although she didn’t quite know what she had done, and Simon bought it.

  
“I’ll find something that will score good points for you, promise,” he said softly and way more conciliating than before. She gave him a small smile. Emma Montgomery, manipulating people since 1997. She sighed. She was about to say something she probably shouldn’t say, because, no, Negan and Simon might like her, but she wouldn’t take liberties in adding unwanted strategic input to plans already written in stone. But this actually really bothered her.

  
“The only person who shouldn’t go to Armitage this week is Negan,” she waited for Simon’s reaction. The man just stared into the distance for a second and rubbed his mustache.

  
“Yeah,” he finally said. The whole thing was fishy. Emma had been to the outpost with Ryan several times already, and she simply saw no huge problem only the big boss could attend to. Ryan insisted, he even called her out for asking too many questions about things she didn’t understand and she shouldn’t put her nose in. Come to think of it the tattletale probably ran to Negan informing him about her insubordination, leading to her being benched situation. Simon jumped down from the truck and walked over to her. He invaded her personal space a little.

  
“Don’t you worry. There are a lot of things going on here that you don't understand. Besides he’s a big boy. He can take care of himself. And he has me,” Simon put his hand on his belt and postured a little, showing off these biceps. Then he grinned and walked away. Emma sighed. At least she had told one of the big wigs her worries. Nobody could blame her for anything if anything would happen. She shrugged and wandered back to the marketplace.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of unfortunate events

Three days later she stood next to Tanya and Frankie on the stairs that would lead into the Sanctuary and watched everybody get ready to leave. Negan’s black truck parked right in front of the entrance and the man in question was overseeing whatever it was he was overseeing. Emma held Lucille. After ignoring her the last couple of days for some reason (Negan was usually pissed at somebody, so why not at her for a change) she obviously was forgiven. Admittedly, holding Lucille wasn’t exactly an honor, quite the opposite actually, but the fact alone that he was acknowledging her presence again was like a huge gesture for Negan. She was babysitting his favorite wives at the moment. Negan didn’t like it when they ran around the compound unattended, for safety reasons. Safety reasons my ass, he just didn’t want them to sneak off doing forbidden things, like lighting a cigarette. Seriously, what was Tanya thinking? Just because she was Negan’s favorite she just couldn’t do whatever she wanted. Emma nearly out of reflex snatched the cigarette away. Negan didn’t like it when his wives smoked, and it would be her ass handed to him when one of them screwed up. Tanya wanted to protest, but all objections died down immediately when Simon stepped out of the compound and made himself comfortable by putting his arms on the banister. He wasn’t saying anything for a while, just watching everyone getting ready. It could have been comfortable silence, but Frankie and Tanya were clearly nervous around the man. Emma actually was relieved when they finally shuffled away a bit to say goodbye to Negan like the dutiful wives they were pretending to be.

  
“So, there’s a herd, like two days from here, South, roaming in our direction on the interstate. I thought you could put that Navy training of yours to good use and come up with one of your tricks to dispatch them. Take Arat, Gary, and whoever. I already run it by the man. One of Gavin’s will take over wife duty,” he said. That was the high point gig he had promised her.

  
“Thanks,” she said. She couldn’t say more because Negan came closer and hovered in her personal space. She handed him Lucille. She expected a pat on the head and a good girl, but Negan just grinned his fake smile and then he looked at his right-hand man.

  
“You coming?” he asked and shouldered Lucille. Simon pushed himself away from the banister. He stopped right in front of her, his hands behind his back and leaned down.

  
“What? I don’t get a goodbye kiss?” the look he received after that pickup line made him laugh out loud enough to turn some heads. He still laughed when he walked away, smug bastard, obviously very pleased with himself. Emma was pissed at him, and rightfully so. The looks _she_ received from several bystanding Saviors after that number just proved her point. She was only here for three months and she already outranked most of them. Gigs like dispatching a herd weren’t given to everyone, just to the most trusted and most capable. That wasn’t like taking out roamers on the fence or keeping watch in the lookouts. Actually, the trusted part was still a bit undecided, at least from Emma’s side, but hell Emma was fucking capable. Not that anyone believed that since she oh so obviously screwed herself up the hierarchy. She didn’t even have to kneel. She couldn’t care less that she was unpopular among her peers per se. The real problem was that she had to do stuff with said peers that include things like having each other’s back. Simon stirring the rumors just made it worse. She hoped he would feel remorse when she got taken down by a roamer or a stray bullet because of that shit. Okay to be fair, she did take advantage out of the fact that Simon fancied her, and somehow Negan treating her like a violent price pony, but that didn’t change that she was good in what she was doing. She pushed her hair out of her brow and glared at some guy just because she could. Negan had a point that the eye would scare people. The boy flinched and was suddenly very interested in examining his shoes. She maybe felt a little bit of satisfaction about that.

  
An hour later she was packing a truck with Arat. She had decided to take Fat Joey because it was fun to watch him sweat under her silent stare. Besides he was good with explosives and he was slow. Okay, the last part was mean, but in case of a roamer attack, Emma would bet money he would be the first to go. She also took Gary, the very man she had tackled down in their first encounter, but he had surprisingly few hard feelings about that. The last two members of their merry little quest party were Brandon and the new guy, Josh. The boy looked like he was 17 and nearly pissed himself every time Negan just walked by. He had gone down on his knees and said he was Negan so fast Emma had been embarrassed for him. She had wondered why the boy wasn’t on his way to Armitage as well since Ryan himself had taken him under his wings. She just took him because he was hanging around doing basically nothing, and we couldn’t have that now, could we? Besides, he seemed nervous without obvious reason and Emma was nothing but a good listener. Arat saw that, too, and she and Emma shared meaningful glances with each other. Something was up with the kid and they had a five-hour drive to a safe house to find out what.

  
Brandon and Gary took their bikes. Fat Joey was more than surprised that Emma climbed in the backseat next to Josh playing idly with her machete, a mean looking thing with a hook that was well used and very sharp. Arat was driving. Emma actually couldn’t, one of the few things she couldn’t do anymore with a blind eye. Maybe she could have with enough practice, she had relearned to shoot like she invented it after all, but this wasn’t exactly the world where you could spend hours driving around on a parking lot. After she got comfortable she turned her face to Josh and simply stared at him. She sat on the right side of the car, so it was the dead eye he would see out of the corner of his eyes, which wasn’t a coincidence. Emma actually felt sorry for the boy. He started sweating after maybe 20 minutes and downright tried to die on the spot 45 minutes in. He probably didn’t even do something or something harmless that would just earn him a beating and a slap on the hands. He was too scared of Negan to betray him big time. From time to time Arat would glance at her through the rear view mirror. They both had way too much fun with this. Negan was starting to rub off on her.

  
“So, Josh,” she said and her voice made him jump. Fat Joey turned around, too. Emma realized that this was probably the first time he heard her speak. Even when they played poker she resorted to impassive grunts. She was trying to build a persona here. “Anything you would like to tell me?” If possible Josh started to sweat even more. He had a bunch of tells that made Emma frown. He rubbed his hands on his pants, looked out of the window with harried eyes, and avoided to look at anybody. That was a bit of a strong reaction. She looked at Arat who looked about as worried as she felt.

  
“No?” he finally said.

  
“You sure about that?” Emma asked and leaned a bit closer. Maybe this was a situation where being the alleged girlfriend of Negan’s number one would come in handy. “You do know that Negan doesn’t like to be lied to, and lying to me means lying to Negan,” that was a very Savior thing to say. Even Emma had to admit that. Maybe she was Negan after all. Josh, literally, pissed himself. Emma looked down on the growing dark spot in front of his pants and pulled a face to the sharp smell of urine. Arat cursed.

  
“Stop the car,” Arat hit the brakes hard enough that Brandon nearly drove into the back of their truck. He cursed at them when he passed, stopped and got off his bike. Gary did the same. Meanwhile, Emma had her machete on Josh’s throat.

  
“Talk,” she ordered. Josh was a sobbing mess. He was so scared out of his wits that he wasn’t even able to form words.

“Fuck,” Emma cursed. She pulled the machete away and slapped the boy. “Get a fucking grip on yourself and tell me the hell what’s going on,” some more heavy sniffles and sobs later Josh started talking.

  
“I didn’t mean to.”

  
“Mean to what?”

  
“Please, he will kill me,” now Emma looked incredulous

.  
“Are you fucking shitting me? _I_ will kill you if you don’t talk. Whom you afraid of, Negan?”

  
“R-r-r-yan,” Emma and Arat shared an alarmed look. Gary and Brandon had opened the doors of the car and watched the scene with the same concerned faces.

  
“Ryan? Is he planning something? What is he planning?”

“He, he wants to take him out, and Simon, and the others. His most loyal.”

  
“Fuck,” the loyal ones were the ones with Negan right now, his inner circle, people like Dwight, Laura. Arat and Gary would be there, too, if Simon hadn’t drafted them to herd duty. “He and who else,” maybe this was just a pipe dream of Ryan’s, for a hit like that he needed the numbers. Negan wouldn’t die easy.

  
“Mike, Alex, Jesse, the black guy with the eyepatch, all of Ryan’s group except you. David from the compound. His girlfriend, both Kassinsky brothers,” Josh took a long breath. “These twins, uhm, Dean, Walker, Lisa.”

  
“Fuck, how many people did Negan take and how many are in the Armitage outpost?” Emma demanded to know from nobody specifically. Brandon was ahead of those things.

  
“Besides Simon, 18 people. And there are 22 in the compound.”

  
“Shit, that’s like all the people,” Arat stated.

  
“They are probably dead already,” Emma sort of deadpanned. Her mind was racing, though.

“N-n-no, Ryan wants to take out Negan and Simon first when they wouldn’t expect it, at the hospital. And, and then he wants to see who’s changing sides.”

  
“That fucking coward asshole,” Gary said. He was pacing. Brandon appeared in the door.

  
“I tried to radio that in. I don’t get through.”

  
“Fuck,” Emma crowded Josh again. “Who’s at the Sanctuary? Who’s blocking our radios?”

  
“An-Andy and Tim. Ryan wanted them to kill you, b-b-but then Simon gave you that herd gig,” for a moment something lighter appeared on Emma’s face. She turned to Gary and Brandon.

  
“Two people, I feel strangely complimented,” she said and Gary scoffed. “What’s the ETA at the outpost?” Brandon checked his watch. The trucks were heavy and slow. He calculated silently for a minute.

  
“Three hours from now, give or take 20 minutes,” Emma palmed her face.

  
“Okay, we need to get back to the Sanctuary. Grab some men and get the hell over there before them.”

  
“We can beat that with the bikes,” Gary nodded. “Will be a close call, though.”

  
“Why not warn them with the radios?” Fat Joey asked. Emma shook her head.

  
“No, they are outnumbered two to one. We warn them and some of the hostiles hear us calling in all hell will break loose. Okay let’s roll,” Gary and Brandon ran to their bikes and Arat turned the car around. There was some tense silence in the car.

  
“What about the herd,” Fat Joey asked in a meek voice. Emma stared at him.

  
“You prefer taking out a herd while our whole executive floor is about to get killed be my guest. But I strongly recommend you sort your priorities out first.”

  
“Sorry,” he mumbled.

  
“Is there anyone else in on this I need to know of?” she asked Josh. The boy frantically shook his head. “And you are sure about it? What about Regina, or Gavin?”

  
“No.”

  
“So what is the plan? Gavin’s as loyal as they come, and he would be third after Simon. Is he supposed to just fall in line or was Ryan planning on taking him out, too?”

  
“I-I, I don’t know.”

  
“Fucking shitshow,” Emma mumbled. They made I back in less than 30 minutes, Arat was pushing hard. That would really beat a dent in their gas rations. Emma and Arat jumped out of the car before it even made a full stop. The guards on the gate had been surprised that they were back already and one came running.

  
“Anything happened? Should I fetch Dr. Carson?”

  
“No, but you can tell me were Andy and Tim are.”

  
“Last time I saw them in the market hall,” the guard looked puzzled. He even looked more puzzled when Brandon dragged an impassive Josh out of the car.

  
“What about him?”

  
“Lock him up somewhere. Let Negan decide what to do with him later,” she said and then a little softer and more to herself. “If there will be a Negan to decide what to do with him later. Alright. You look for the assholes, I look for Gavin or Regina or literally any Lieutenant,” with that they split up. Emma ran into the living quarters. She knocked down a kid carrying a pot of food, by the smell of it canned spaghetti. She would apologize for it later. She didn’t bother to knock on the door of the room Gavin would stay when he was at the Sanctuary, she simply burst in. Gavin wasn’t there but his half-dressed girlfriend.

  
“You can’t just –“

  
“Shut up, where’s Gavin?” The girl had enough sense to smell the urgency.

  
“At the bike lot, he wanted – “ Emma wasn’t listening to the rest. She had her at bike lot. She opened the metal door to the lot and spotted Gavin couple yards away talking to some of his men. She was about to call out to him when she got shoved hard and fell the few steps down onto the dirty concrete floor. Tim should’ve shot her in the back instead. He hovered above her with his gun pointed at her head, but his shins were in nice kicking distance, and ask Cindy, she had a mean kick. Tim went down and the idiot lost his gun. There was some scrambling in which he got away, but now Emma was armed. She wondered why the actual hell no one was helping her by now. She aimed at him when he went running, but she missed. Fuck. At least the shot drew some attention. Emma jumped on her feet and followed him around a corner. Gavin ran into her because she had stopped on the spot. Tim had Tanya and he pressed a knife at her throat. The girl was crying. She still had a burning cigarette in her hand.

  
“And that’s why Negan doesn’t want you to smoke,” Emma couldn’t help but say. Gavin looked irritated, but he drew his gun as well. He didn’t quite have it in him to aim at Tim, no yet. Gavin was a reasonable man, but he wasn’t great at improvising.

  
“What’s going on here?” he demanded to know. His men joined the little gathering. Tim had no chance, but Emma was actually afraid that he would take the girl with him just because he could.

  
“Let her go,” she ordered. Tim laughed.

"Like you give a fuck about Negan's whores."

  
“If you let her go I’ll kill you here and now. If you hurt her I’ll leave you to Negan.”

  
“Negan’s a dead man,” Tim said, but there was fear in his eyes. He hid behind Tanya’s head. He wasn’t stupid.

  
“We’ll see about that. Let her go, now!”

  
“You shoot at me I’ll slit her throat.”

  
“That’s actually highly unlikely,” with that Emma took the shot. She hit him clean in the forehead and the back of his skull exploded. And holy shit what kind of revolver was that? Tanya stood there with her hands over her mouth, trembling like a leaf. She had parts of Tim on her face now. Everyone else stared at her.

  
“What? I scored 232 with the pistol and 186 with the rifle. The only medals I’ve ever earned,” she put the pistol in her waistband. “You okay?” she asked Tanya who kind of nodded and then threw herself at Emma. She actually froze. She never was much of a hugger. Guess Tanya had the Damsel in Distress gene. She awkwardly patted her back.

  
“We probably need to talk,” she said to Gavin.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma gets a chance to show off. Negan is impressed

Dwight idly wandered through the halls of the Armitage compound. He even whistled. According to David and Ryan, there was a community making trouble and they needed the man to do his thing. Should be a milk run. Someone grabbed him by the shoulders and dragged him into a storage room. A hand pressed against his mouth.

  
“It’s me, it’s me,” he had no idea who me was in that scenario, but he recognized Gary peeking into the hallway with a combat rifle in his hands. Dwight lifted his hands in order to communicate that he understood and whoever held him let go. It was the Princess. He had thought she was mute.

  
“What’s going on?” he asked slowly. Jason was here, too. So was Arat. Why on earth did they break into their own outpost?

  
“Where’s Negan?” Arat asked.

  
“He’s uhm. He and Simon are with Ryan in David’s quarters. Why?”

  
“Cliff notes? David and Ryan are planning a coup. Two-thirds of the people here are in on it. Negan and Simon are supposed to die and the rest can decide if they change sides or die, too. And we are here to save the day,” the Princess stated. Dwight needed 30 seconds to process the words.

  
“Well shit. How do you know that?”

  
“Just a hunch, and a snitch. Mostly a snitch,” Dwight let his hand run through his greasy blond hair.

  
“Fuck.”

  
“Yeah, that’s what I said,” she gave him the names of the turncoats and Dwight cursed again. “So we need you to get the others on track, as quietly as possible. Get them armed, get Negan and Simon, and then we gun them into kingdom come,” Dwight nodded and slipped out of the storage room. The rest stood around awkwardly. Emma thought it was an okay plan, it was hers after all, but it somehow relied on the fact that the hostiles were too dense to notice they had been exposed. But she couldn’t come up with a better one, no one did, so this plan it was. Doesn’t mean she couldn’t put some salt in her self-inflicted wound.

  
“I bet a bottle of Tequila and half a dozen batteries that this will fire backward,” Emma said seconds before the gunfire started.

  
“We split up, you get the boss,” Gary said to Emma. She and Arat went to the left, while Gary and Jason went right. Emma knew the place. She knew where David’s room was. They made it down a hall unbothered. This kind of changed when they stepped around a corner.

  
“Give me cover,” Emma said. Arat stared to give curtain fire and Emma peeked around the corner. Two precise shots took care of the problem.

  
“The twins,” Emma mumbled.

  
“Which one?”

  
“Both. Let’s go, the room is right there,” Emma took position in front of the door ready to fire and Arat opened the door on three. She was greeted by Laura and Dwight aiming their guns at her. She let the revolver sink.

  
“Shit. Where are they?” Dwight just shrugged.

  
“Splitting up?”

  
“No, this way,” they came across some bodies, at least two of them their people. Dwight took care of those who hadn’t died from headshots.

  
“Whose idea was it to open an outpost in an old hospital? It’s like a fucking maze in here,” Dwight mumbled.

  
“It only has three exits, and all windows are higher than 15 feet, so,” Arat just said. They stopped in front of another body.

  
“Well, at least it’s good to know that Lucille is fine,” Emma deadpanned.

  
“That’s David,” Laura said. “This way,” she said pointing on a blood trail.

  
“Someone’s hurt,” Dwight stated unnecessarily.

"Better be Ryan," Emma said. It wasn't Ryan.

  
“Kind of makes you wish you had given me that goodbye kiss,” Simon was pale. Someone, probably Negan, had already bound off the wound with a belt. “What’d you even doing here,” Emma was loosening the belt a bit. Some of these days she would give the Saviors a proper first aid training. The shotgun wound on his leg wasn’t bleeding that much with the bullet blocking the blood flow. Arat gave her her scarf and Emma folded it into a tight package. She put it on the wound and arranged the belt around it. She looked him in the eyes.

  
“I’m a Savior, thought I do me some saving,” she said. “I’m sorry,” with that she fastened the belt. Simon screamed out in pain, and then he made some very sad little sounds.

  
“No you’re not,” he pressed out between his teeth when he was able to form words again.

  
“Come on you big baby, that’s just a flesh wound. Walk it off,” she tried to pull him up, but he swatted her away.

  
“Negan went after Ryan. Idiot has no gun. Ryan has,” that was very Negan. Emma checked her barrel. She just had two more bullets.

  
“How is that man still alive? Okay, I’ll go. You get him out of here.”

  
“I’ll come, too,” Dwight said. Emma looked down on 6’3” and estimated 200 pounds of Simon.

  
“I’ll appreciate that, but you need to help the ladies. I’ve got it,” famous last words. She might as well could’ve said let’s split up. Oh wait, she kind of had.

  
“Emma,” that was the first time Simon addressed her by her name. He handed her his gun. “Clip’s full. Don’t get yourself killed.”

  
There was only one way Negan and Ryan could have gone and that was out. Emma stood in the back of the hospital in a little unkempt garden and listened into the night. There were still occasional gunshots in the building, but by the end of the night the revolutionaries were outnumbered now and had no chance. There was one gunshot coming from the woods left of her, though, and Emma started running. She slowed down after a while, pressed herself onto a tree and listened for suspicious sounds. Someone was walking maybe 50 yards in front of her and they were not very subtle about it. They made enough noise that for a second she wondered if it was a Roamer, but the gait was too steady.

  
“I’ve got a gun Negan,” okay, so it was Ryan in front of her. Emma looked around the tree. She couldn’t see him. Shit.

  
“Then learn to fucking use it you moronic prick,” Negan’s voice came from somewhere left of her. Emma ducked and darted in his direction. She took cover behind another tree.

  
“This is over Negan, your men are dead. Simon’s dead. Dwight’s dead. Your precious Princess’s been taken care of. The Sanctuary’s mine now,” so Ryan didn’t know that he had been overrun by them. Well, someone was in for a surprise.

  
“You think you can take my place?” Negan chuckled. “You are a bigger piece of dumbass shit than I thought you were,” she wished Negan would stop talking. She had found him pressed to a tree, with Lucille ready in his hands. If she could find him, Ryan could find him. There was a snap of a branch somewhere behind Emma and she ducked between some bushes. Another guy came towards them. It was the guy with the eyepatch, Gordon or something.

  
“Shit,” Emma mumbled under her breath. Well, she knew a thing or two about having an impaired field of vision. She cast a look at Negan. He had heard the snap, too, but he probably thought it was Ryan. He bit by bit made his way around the tree, in Ryan’s direction. Emma ducked around the bushes and slowly crawled towards Gordon. She stayed on his left side, the side where the eyepatch was. She had the ironic idea that he maybe just wore it because it looked cool, that would have been pretty stupid of him. She came at him from behind and stabbed her knife right in his throat, severing the vocal cords. He couldn’t scream anymore, but he made some gurgling sounds that were loud enough in her ears. Emma slowly let him down to the ground and rammed her knife through his eye socket. The mess didn’t need a roamer on top. She looked up and listened. Another snap on her left and she skipped slowly from tree to tree closer to the source. Finally, she could see Negan standing next to a tree shining like a beacon in his white shirt. She looked around for Ryan. She spotted him not 30 yards away from the man. Negan had his back to him. That wasn’t good. Not. Good. At. All. Even in the dark, it was unlikely he missed the shot. And Emma had no clear shot herself. He already aimed at Negan. Emma tackled Negan shoulder first, which, admittedly, felt a bit like running into a brick wall. He went down anyway. She shot the moment Ryan shot and hit him in the shoulder. He shot her in the stomach. The sheer force of the shot sent her flying backward. Negan got up. He couldn’t find Lucille, but he could see Ryan good enough. He charged and sucker punched him in the stomach. Ryan fell on his knees, but he wasn’t a rookie himself when it came to fights. He grabbed one of Negan’s legs and took him down with him. Ryan managed to kick Negan into the temple and frantically searched for his gun. Negan pulled him towards him by his belt, threw him on his back and straddled the asshole. He had beaten men to death like that before and he was more than ready to do it again. Every punch was delivered with another curse word.

  
“You” Punch “fucking” Punch “Moronic” Punch “Motherfucking” Punch “Son of a Bitch” Ryan hit Negan over the head with the grip of his gun. It was like the second hit against his head in 45 seconds and Negan felt dizzy. When he was done seeing stars he looked up in Ryan’s face, or what was left of it, and into the barrel of a gun. Ryan staggered closer. Negan propped himself up on his elbows and gave the man a wide smile.

  
“You really think you fucking won, do you?”

  
“Shut up, you asshole. Just for once, shut the fuck up,” Ryan pressed out. He had lost a couple of teeth. Negan chuckled.

  
“You won’t kill me, and you wanna know why?”

  
“Why?” Emma let Lucille rain down on Ryan’s head hard and there was a really satisfying crunching sound. Ryan went to the ground like the dead weight he probably was right now.

  
“That’s why,” Negan said. Emma was breathing heavily, like she just ran here, and looked down on the bat. She made a little approving sound and hit Ryan two more times with all she got, just for good measure. She was bleeding from her right side on the level of her rib cage. It didn’t look so bad.

  
“Did you just take a fucking bullet for me?” Emma shrugged and put Lucille on her shoulder. She still was breathing heavily.

  
“How many points does that get me?” she asked and Negan let himself fall on his back laughing.

  
“All of them, Princess. All of them.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma gets promoted. Simon gets lucky.

Emma rummaged around in a supply closet opening one box of canned food after the other.

  
“What are the fucking odds,” she murmured to herself. A rather large silhouette filled the doorway.

  
“Are you stealing food,” Simon asked in a flat voice after some seconds of silence and shuffled in. He still was limping. She didn’t even look up.

  
“According to Negan, I’m allowed to take anything that isn’t his personally, so technically, no. I’m taking food. Semantics,” Simon picked up a can.

  
“And you start with creamed corn? You are an odd creature,” he put the can back and looked down on her. She sighed and got up.

  
“I’m looking for spaghetti O’s if you have to know.”

  
“Why?”

  
“None of your business,” she smiled and passed him. She opened another box and made a triumphant sound. “Can you hold this for me, please?” she shoved four cans into his arms.

  
“I’m here to serve,” he mumbled and rearranged the cans in his hands. She closed the box and put it back on its shelf.

  
“What are you even doing here in the bowels of the Sanctuary among the peasants? What about your downtime? The boss man was really insistent.”

  
“I’m bored, besides, somebody was complaining about someone rummaging around in something.”

  
“And you came personally?” They slowly made their way upstairs. To be fair Simon was the head of security, but that didn’t mean he was notified about every little bit of bullshit that was going on. Everyone they passed either turned their gaze to the ground or did their best to disappear by standing still. Like Emma was a fucking T-Rex. That was her life now. She had saved a wife, Negan, the compound by proxy. That made her obviously a supervillain. Yeah, Negan _really_ pulled a number on those people. It was like they half expected Emma to lose it any minute now and to start to dismember random people because she was entitled.

  
“It’s not like I have anything else to do. And people tend to be a bit nervous after someone killed someone else,” he gave her a pointed look.

  
“Gary killed Andy. No one’s talking about that.”

  
“Maybe. But not with an impossible shot. Do you even know the stories the good people of Sanctuary are telling each other about you? Lieutenant Montgomery, Negan’s treasured princess, a courageous commander, an unprecedented markswoman, a seasoned strategist. They write epics about you, probably in all caps,” Emma rolled her eyes in his direction.

  
“Funny, really. I was just a Junior Lieutenant.”

  
“Like I care.”

  
“People sure ain’t acting like any of the fancy adjectives you used, apply to me,” she mumbled.

  
“That’s not because of that, that is because you are one of us now,” Emma looked confused. Wasn’t she one of them already?

  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”

  
“You will see.”

  
“You cannot just drop something like that and then not elaborate,” he shrugged and grinned.

  
“Well, it’s not my place to tell. And why would I since you don’t tell me why you need four cans of canned garbage. The sodium alone,” he studied the back of one can. “You probably get cancer just looking at it,” Emma scoffed.

  
“They are not for me,” Simon sighed. Emma knew that he didn’t particularly approve of her habit of handing out goods to the poor, but he stopped commenting on it. Besides, she did owe the kid she had knocked down the other day a meal so he could shove it up his ass. They arrived at her new home, a way nicer room than before, Ryan’s room. Now with a bathroom! Perks! And it was only fair, she had bested him in combat, the sneaky, behind the back kind of bested, but still, all his belongings shall be hers. She even had a bike now. She couldn’t ride it, but it was hers. Simon put the cans on the counter of the kitchenette and looked around.

  
“You wanna change anything at this place? It seems a little bit,” he made a pause. “Ryan-esque,” he looked at a poster of a half clad woman. “Although I admit he had an acquired taste in art. I think I went to school with that girl,” Emma got behind him and peeked over his shoulder.

  
“You went to school with Miss January 1985? You look good for someone over 50. The apocalypse is treating you well. I might change the color scheme, though,” he turned around and he kind of pinned her against the table. He lifted her up on it easily.

  
“Or,” he said mouthing on her neck. “We could start with rearranging some furniture,” yeah, so that had happened. After the whole Ryan debacle, she did a little taking-the-inward-turn and she had to admit that the recurring thought Simon might be dead hadn’t sat especially well with her and that yes if she was completely honest to herself the guy was one hell of a good looking specimen of the male gender. Before the end of the world 15 something years age difference might have been a bummer, but it wasn’t like they would grow old together anyway. Considering her fellow Saviors she definitely earned their respect the other day and who still didn’t respect her was afraid of her because Negan. So she had decided fuck it. She got a little kick out of the fact that it took her like five seconds to seduce the man.

  
“You even up to this?” she asked glancing down on his thigh and he looked innocently at her.

  
“You might have to do most of the work.”

  
Ten minutes later Emma groaned annoyed when someone knocked on the door. Fun fact, you could tell the difference between a knock and a knock with a barbed-wired baseball bat. Since Simon and she had started screwing around Negan had run into them often enough that Emma wondered if Simon was sending him memos. He did it on purpose. Simon’s carefully suggested that maybe Negan just enjoyed annoying her and that he would get tired of it eventually if she would stop acting out like a child every time. Emma had reasonably acted out like a child at Simon’s words and pouted for two days. But Simon had a point. So she opened the door in her underwear and leaned against the doorframe like this was a totally normal thing to do.

  
“How can I help you, my fearless leader?” Negan wouldn’t be Negan if he wouldn’t openly check her out.

  
“Simon in there?” he had changed his attitude towards her significantly since the night two weeks ago. He trusted her now, and he had tuned most of that excessive ego peacocking down. He even cursed less. Emma had been sure that fucking fuckity fuck wasn’t a real curse anyway. But there was the slightest threat in that innocent three words that the answer to his question better be yes. For a man with 5 interchangeable wives, he had pretty clear opinions on how the woman should behave in a relationship. Good ol’ Negan, always the sexist.

  
“Yes,” Emma said and got an approving nod for that.

  
“You kids can swing by my office when you're done with your round of “Simon says”. How long do you think you need, 10 minutes? 15?” He might be nicer to her and saw her now as somewhat equal, by equal meaning being on the highest level several levels under him, but she sure as hell would never call him anything, like a fucking asshole.

  
“You’re a fucking asshole,” that was what Simon was there for. Negan chuckled.

  
“Take your time. I might even screw one or two of my wives, too. But when you’re done, come find me. I have news to share,” he was about to leave and Emma about to shut the door when he stopped and did the elevator eyes again. Emma rolled her eyes hard enough they probably disappeared in her head.

  
“I didn’t know you have tattoos,” she stared at him.

  
“That’s because we never had a conversation bringing it up. Or a conversation at all,” he just chuckled. Then he got serious and lowered his voice just enough to make sure Simon _would_ hear him.

  
“Now that I’ve seen yours, wanna see mine?” Emma couldn’t answer because Simon pulled her into the room and threw the door shut, leaving a laughing Negan behind. Yeah, who was acting out like a child now?

  
Later that evening Simon and she sat on Negan’s couch while the man poured Simon a drink. He had offered Emma one, too, but she had declined. Simon looked a little surprised at the glass.

  
“Don’t get used to me waiting on your ass, that’s just because that bullet,” he pointed at Simon’s leg. “Was supposed to go in here,” he pointed at his chest.

  
“Good thing David was a terrible shot,” Simon said and lifted his glass. Simon wasn’t expecting any reward for his selfless act of heroism, or how Emma put it his brainless clusterfuck idea of trying to kill himself. He knew very well that Negan, that idiot, would do something similar if their places would be reversed. Negan dropped on the couch and if Emma wouldn’t know better she would say he looked tired. Displayed weakness, by Negan? Emma gracefully found the curtains really attractive.

  
“I had a hard time even start to award you for that shit you’ve done,” Emma looked at him. “You saved Tanya, Simon, me, everyone really, got shot, and the fucking next thing you’ve done was taking people to take out a herd, with a shotgun wound!”

  
“It really just was a scratch,” Negan actually glared at her. “Okay,” she said and leaned back again. Simon put on a lopsided smile.

  
“I wanted to make you my new Ryan,” Emma looked up alarmed, that would mean living at an outpost most of the time. “Simon thinks this is something you wouldn’t particularly enjoy, but he might be a little selfish here. Don’t get me wrong, you are a good leader. Don’t tell me otherwise, but maybe something a little else would be a little more interesting for you,” she looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

  
“And this thing is?”

  
“Simon’s my right-hand man. You wanna be my left-hand woman?” Emma wasn’t answering right away.

  
“What?”

  
“I make you my second Simon, 2.0, now with tits,” Simon next to her sputtered his drink with a barely held laugh. When she glared at him he already had put back an innocent expression. “That Ryan thing is on Simon and me. I have a big enough dick to admit that. Too many people, too many outposts, and just one me and one him to oversee it all. So why not pass on some deeds onto your shoulders? You made the fucking right calls while my other Lieutenants either ran around like the fucking headless chicken they are or literally tried to stab me in the back, present company excluded. You,” he leaned forward a bit. “Showed more loyalty in the last 3 months than most of them together the last two years. You even took a bullet for me, although, and let’s be honest here, it wasn’t quite necessary since that fucking coward fuck would have dropped anything and ran if you would have shot in the air,” Emma had to admit that point was somehow valid. Simon had pointed this out, too, after she called he saving Negan by taking a bullet a brainless clusterfuck idea of trying to kill himself. In hindsight, she was actually not quite sure what gotten into her. “And,” Negan leaned back. “You’re smart. You can Navy seal and ninja the shit out of situations, you know your shit. But the best part,” Emma was starting to get uncomfortable by Negan gushing over her. “That people outside barely even think anymore that you are a regular human being. The not speaking thing? That eye? That impassive face you always wear, even when I get my girl all wet and dirty? That scary ass machete? Arat told me all you had to do to break the kid was looking at him. I know what you are doing there. Simon and I doing it, too. Half of this?” he somehow gestured down on himself. “Just an act to remind the people where their place is. Without the legend things like I had to do to Josh the other day would happen way more often,” Josh had gotten off easy, considering. Negan took his hand. Not with Lucille, with her machete. It was a clean cut and it healed up fine. It wasn’t even his strong hand. For Negan’s standards, this was almost showing compassion. “You get that,” he pointed to the door. “They don’t. So what do you think?”

Obviously, Emma would say yes, first because Negan wasn’t offering, not really, and second, of course, she would. That was like all the promotions. And for the first time since she barely made it out of Topeka after the Refugee Camp got overrun (everybody turns? Who knew!) she felt like she belonged somewhere. Maybe to a group of violent bullies with some crazy sociopaths at the top, but she probably was a crazy sociopath, too. She had killed people in the Navy, she had killed people in Topeka, she had killed people for Woodbury, she had killed people for the prison, she had killed people for Negan. At this point, everything was the same.

  
“Where should I sign?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A strange encounter and a manhunt

Emma had her feet propped up on the dashboard of her truck and was crossing out the last name in her extremely tattered notebook. The visit of the Satellite Outpost in order to investigate if there were still revolutionary elements spread among the Saviors had gone extremely well. Emma got barely out of the car when Paula and Primo, with a trembling Kyle in tow, already approached her. Turned out Kyle had played cards with the twins a while back, everybody drunk as a skunk and high as a kite when one of the twins had started bragging that they would take out Negan one day. The other twin had shushed him to shut up and Kyle had waived it away as drunken rambling and told no one. Emma actually found it a bit cute that Kyle, burly manly man at least 15 years older than her, who sat crying and begging for forgiveness (because goddamn Negan pulled a fucking number on _everyone_ , did he?), was so worked up about it. She probably would have shrugged something like that off as well. Now not anymore, but in the past when she had been just a little Savior girl in an incredibly fucked up world. Hard to believe that had been just three weeks ago. So she just scared him a little bit, in front of everybody of course, by putting her machete on his cheek with the point uncomfortably close to his eye, the hook sort of hovering over his pupil, and told him that it was okay, but if something remotely similar to this would ever happen again he was expected run to a superior ASAP or she would take the eye the next time. On her little tour around the outposts the last couple of weeks she had found seven people in total that either knew something about Ryan’s plan and hadn’t told anyone or were actually involved. She had dragged three of them back to the Sanctuary and Negan had done his thing.

  
“You know, if I crash the car now and the airbag goes off you are fucked,” Arat said from her place on the driver seat. Emma had ascertained rather quickly that not speaking to anyone kind of didn’t fly when you were in charge, so she circumvented parts of the problem by making Arat her Uhura and let her repeat the computer. Arat wasn’t complaining since that meant instant promotion. And besides, she liked the crazy bitch, she was loyal to Negan and she was a hell of a fighter. She still had to talk to people, but she kept it at a low level.

  
“Says the one who never puts on a belt. I might break some bones, you one the other hand? We will need to scrape from the asphalt,” Emma was drawing doodles on her notebook while she said that. Arat chuckled and refrained from reminding Emma that she indeed wasn’t wearing a seatbelt either. It wasn’t like she didn’t know that. Emma was a bit distracted since she was anxious to get home. Home, yep, the Sanctuary was her home now. She would take it to the grave, though, that the main reason for that anxiousness was that she actually missed Simon after three weeks of hoofing around from Outpost to Outpost in one go. Brandon, who drove in front of them on his bike suddenly circled back and proceeded to drive next to them signaling to stop the car. Emma rolled down her window.

  
“You hear that?” he said and Emma gestured Arat to turn off the car. First, she heard nothing besides the wind and the motor of the second truck behind them, but then she heard a rather loud, rather close scream. It sounded like a woman in great pain. She raised an eyebrow.

  
“You want us to investigate?” Brandon asked and hell yes, she wanted them to, so close to the Sanctuary. Emma preferred a more hands-on approach to leading than Negan. She was more like Kirk while he was more like Picard, so she would join the ground team. And where were the stupid Star Trek references coming from? She took Brandon, Arat and four others and together they made their slow way through the woods towards the screams that, surprisingly, hadn’t stopped yet. That meant someone was hurting her and not something was tearing her apart. The scene they walked into was, yeah, bizarre might be a word for it. It could have been funny how everyone froze in mid-movement, the half-feral looking guy carving around in the stomach of a naked woman and the other guy chopping off the limbs of a dead man included, if it weren’t for the painful screams of the woman. One of the men got up and readjusted the hatchet in his hand and this was the signal for Emma and her group to open fire, thoroughly.

  
“Yeah, they’re dead alright,” Emma mumbled when the fire ceased. Arat immediately radioed to the others that everything was fine while the rest fanned out to give the area a little sweep. Emma walked to the woman who was whimpering now and looked up to her with a pleading expression. There was nothing that could be done, even if they would get her to the Sanctuary alive. Carson wasn’t a surgeon, not really, and besides, parts of her intestines were now outside of her and what was she supposed to do? Shove them right back in? So she knelt next to her, put the rifle on the ground and carefully lifted up her head. Her knife entered her skull easily enough through the vulnerable hollow on her neck. It was a painless and fast death.

  
“That’s some weird shit,” Arat said when she kicked the guy with the hatchet so he could roll on his back. “What’s the W stand for?” he had it carved in his forehead, the other one, too. It looked old.

  
“Wanker for all I care. Guess everyone copes differently. Seems like they ran into the couple making camp and then went full-on serial killer on them,” Emma said. Then she searched the bodies and their backpacks and found the usual, outdoor survival stuff, sleeping bags, some food, couple of batteries and matches, a pistol, a photo of the woman and the man with a little girl. Emma wasn’t dwelling. Kids were usually the first to go, then the women. There was a reason why she, Arat and all the other girls were basically outnumbered one to four in the Sanctuary. Nothing indicated that either the couple or their attackers had a camp somewhere. They were dirty, tattered and lined by exposure.

  
The others came back and gave the ok that the area was clear and Emma let them gather the useful stuff. They headed back, quieter than usual. Even by their standards, this had been excessive. Most of the men and women among the Saviors enjoyed roughhousing the assholes they “dealt” with, and no one could tell her otherwise, Negan and Simon took pleasure in the killings, but the iron was the closest thing to what they had just seen. This was a whole different crazy. That was for sure.

  
“You gonna tell Negan?” Arat asked when she started the motor. Emma shrugged.

  
“Yeah, kind of have to. Probably a good idea when some of Simon’s hunters give the whole area a thorough sweep, make sure that not more of them are hauled up somewhere,” Arat made an uncommitted sound that was probably approval. It wasn’t like she had a say in that anyway. 45 minutes later they rolled through the gate of the Sanctuary.

  
“Home sweet home,” Arat said and turned off the car. Emma had been irritated the past hour and now her mood got even worse. Negan was basically anticipating her like a heroine from an 18th century novel of manners, impatiently pacing with Lucille swinging pointlessly around and occasionally snapping at somebody for no apparent reason. Emma, just to spite him a bit, to be completely honest, got out of the car taking her sweet ass time. She even stretched. Negan waltzed over to her.

  
“What’s up?” she said chipper and got the mother of bitch faces as an answer. Well okay, tough crowd.

  
“Took you long enough. You left the fucking outpost hours ago. Hours. Dwight’s gone. Took Sherry, Tina, supplies for two weeks, a car and oh, motherfucking insulin worth two months. Knocked out two guards and the doc. Congratulations, you got a new assignment. Bring me the son of the bitch, and that little whores he calls his wife and sister in law, and I don’t even care in how many pieces,” he looked at her anticipatingly and she just stared back at him. First, she had a bit to process here, since Dwight didn’t seem to be the running type and second, hunting down people wasn’t exactly her line of expertise.

  
“Isn’t that Simon’s job?” she stepped back immediately after saying that because Negan shot her a menacing look. No shit, she could feel anger radiating from him. “I just mean I might not be the most qualified for this. Simon on the other hand,” Negan interrupted her harshly.

  
“You aren’t my first choice either. You're shit in that kind of shit. But that asshole has something to do right now and ain't here. And I already sent someone else, idiots got gunned down by someone. At this point, it’s just you left.”

  
“Ouch, mean, fair, accurate, but mean,” that at least got her a little half smile. “Fine, alright,” she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Ok, Arat?” the girl appeared next to her. One of these days she would get her a bell or something. “Gather some people, a proper hunting party. Here’s hoping Simon, where ever he is, hasn’t taken all the good trackers with him. I’ll have a chat with the doc,” Arat nodded and stomped away already barking orders at no one in particular.

  
“I already talked to the fucker,” Negan said, and she shrugged.

  
“And I am sure you did a great job,” she answered. Negan gave her this you-can’t-talk-to me-like-that-in-public look he usually gave her when she got cocky, but since no one was around to hear them she would get away with it. The doc was sorting through some medicinal looking thingamajigs and looked up alarmed when she barged in. He downright jumped up and hid behind his desk when Negan followed and kept standing in the doorway looming larger than life with Lucille shouldered and a smug grin on his face.

  
“Carson,” he said, and the doc flinched. “My trusted third over here thinks you maybe not told me everything you know regarding this unfortunate business with Dwighty and his lovely companions. Tell me, is she right?” the doc looked panicky.

“I swear, the second I woke up and realized the meds were gone I told you. I have nothing to do with it,” he stammered. Emma swayed a bit on her feet and looked over to Negan. He nodded slightly.

  
“That’s not what he meant,” she said cordial and sat down on the examination table idly plucking on the corner of the paper covering it. “You and Sherry spent a lot of time together,” she said in a neutral tone. Negan obviously clued in what she was up to and lifted a surprised eyebrow.

  
“I never. We. I would never. She was just working here. She,” the doctor stuttered. Yeah, she thought so. It had been kind of obvious that Carson carried a torch for Sherry. Emma crossed her arms over her chest.

“Oh, relax,” she chirped. “That’s not what I meant. I mean, that’s exactly what I meant, but I am not actually believing that you and her,” she shook a bit in played disgust and Negan had to turn away to hide his smirk. “However, I guess you were always extra nice to her, let her off easy on work, did her the one or other favor regarding her sick sister, listen to her telling her about her first pet, how she met D, where she lived and who else was there. Shit like that, am I right?” now Carson realized that he wouldn’t get out of that number easily. He got tight-lipped and pressed his fists against is sides.

  
“What is it that you want. I already told you everything,” he said in a defiant tone that Negan clearly didn’t like since he grabbed Lucille a bit tighter. He let her keep running the show nonetheless.

  
“Have you, though?” she said. “She never mentioned anything about what she would do if she wouldn’t be here, where she would go, hypothetically of course,” she looked at him expectantly and he caved after several seconds of a game of who-looks-away first.

  
“She mentioned an aunt once, Patty. Said that she was still home,” he said and looked at the ground. That was supposed to be a secret, Emma could tell. Secrets like that weren’t something Negan let slip. There were people hunkering down somewhere? Please do point in their direction. He could be pissed at the doc all he wanted after, though.

  
“And home was?”

  
“Not sure, she owned a gas company. In Ivakota,” Emma nodded thoughtfully. She had no idea where that was, but that was what maps were for.

  
“Anything else?” there was a little threat in her voice, just the tiniest bit. The doctor swallowed visibly.

  
“All I know is that they used to live a bit outside in the woods somewhere near a street named Farmview Road. I swear, that’s all,” Emma shared a look with Negan and shrugged. The man in question took Lucille in one hand and sauntered over to the doc.

  
“Was that so hard?”

  
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know this was important,” Negan stared him in the eyes his face basically a clenched fist.

  
“Yeah,” he said lowly and suddenly stepped away fast enough to make the doc jump. He walked out of the infirmary without another word and Emma had to hurry to follow him.

  
“Maybe you are not so shit with this shit after all. So, the doc has a thing for Sherry. Can’t blame him. She’s a hot as fuck,” he said. “You think they are stupid enough to go back there? It’s only 12, 15 miles from here. They are gone since sometime yesterday, they could be singing O Canada by now.”

  
“Yeah,” she scoffed. “As long as there’s a chance Sherry’s aunt is there. People are stupid like that,” outside Arat had done a great job by rounding up some guys.

  
“Make me proud, doll,” Negan said and left her standing in the entrance. She walked down to the group of maybe two dozen people.

  
“What are you doing here?” she asked Wade with a lopsided grin. The guy was one of Regina’s and technically not supposed to be here.

  
“Dropped off some stuff. Heard you guys have yourself a good old-fashioned manhunt. How can I resist?” lucky break. He was a local.

  
“You know where Ivakota is?” he rubbed his chin. She liked him. He was pretty relaxed and had quite the loud mouth, a man after her own heart.

  
“Yeah, you think D took off to there?”

  
“It’s the best guess. Ever heard of Farmview Road?”

  
“Not much view there alright. Just scorched woods. We gonna start looking there?”

  
“Yep,” Wade eyed his car up and down, a beat-up Honda Odyssey. Pretty ugly on the eyes.

  
“We gonna need a bigger car,” he finally said.

  
“Then, by all means, take your pick,” Emma shrugged with a grin. 15 minutes later she slipped next to Arat into her truck that had been her second home the past three weeks.

  
“Good to be on the road again. It was starting to get boring,” Arat said sarcastically. Negan was there to see them off. He knocked with Lucille on the hood of the car chipping away some of the rust that held the piece of junk together.

  
“Tally ho!”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pursuit costs an arm and a leg

Patrick’s Gas Company had been a bust and Laurence, Wade best tracker, couldn’t tell if there had been people recently or not, although it kind of looked that way. Emma had been close on calling the whole thing off, mostly because they were getting near to the spot where their guys had been dinged up the other day, when they more or less stumbled over the truck Dwight had stolen, abandoned and barely hidden away in a dirt road that led into the burned down woods. Emma had no intentions to enter said woods. The smell reminded her too much of burning debris and smoldering flesh, it made her nauseous, so she, Arat and some of her goons stayed back and let Wade do his thing. She started out of the window impatiently whipping with her leg.

  
“You know, your this is bullshit is showing,” Arat said after a while and Emma looked at her questioningly.

  
“My what?”

  
“You think this is bullshit. You don’t wanna do this. And you let it show,” Emma wasn’t saying anything to that right away, she just kept staring at Arat. Then she scoffed but stayed quiet. Arat had a point. This was bullshit. Arat on the other hand really wanted to keep the conversation going.

  
“Why you think he ran?” she asked, and Emma sighed. The answer was kind of obvious.

  
“Because Sherry made him. Probably to get Tina out of there,” she looked at Arat. The girl didn’t look convinced.

“You think?”

  
“The way Negan weaseled around Tina like a total creep might would have sent me running as well,” she looked absently into the woods next to her. “You ever repeat that words to anybody I’ll carve up your face we will practically look like twins,” she turned back to Arat with a bright smile and the other woman looked at her miffed. “And I say that lovingly,” now Arat rolled her eyes. After a second both had to chuckle. They sat in silence for another five minutes or so. Emma fumbled with her bottom lip. She could trust Arat, she was basically her confidant, and what was on her mind right now wasn’t something she could casually ask Simon or Negan.

  
“So,” she started slowly. “How come Dwight’s so high up the food chain anyway?” Arat frowned at the question.

  
“Well he’s a good scavenger, a good scout, good with the roamers, and he was there from the beginning, even before Negan showed up. So, the people downstairs and most of the other Saviors generally like him and Negan kind of does, too, I guess,” well that was a vague explanation if there ever was one. Emma always found Dwight sort of bland and boring, sure, he was kind of nice, and there was the problem. She always considered Dwight a good man, so what in the hell was he doing playing a Savior. He wasn’t a bully.

  
“You are saying he made it like sixth or seventh in command by just being there and being likable?” Arat tilted her head.

  
“Kind of sounds dumb when you put it that way.”

  
“Well, guess his moving up the ladder got seriously slowed down right now anyway if we find him and the other two. Maybe it’s better we’re not. Less work for us and they get their happy end until they all die from some bullshit anyway.”

  
“You wouldn’t mind if they get away?” Emma scoffed.

  
“Why would I? Tina’s a liability, Sherry has written troublemaker all over her forehead and Dwight’s expendable. So we go after them why again? Three people died yesterday. Not by them, but because of them. That’s one batshit cost-benefit-analysis considering Negan will kill Dwight and whatever he plans for the girls, but it won’t be pretty.”

  
“They still took the insulin,” Arat said.

  
“Like this is about insulin. This is about Negan’s ego,” Emma mumbled and Arat was smart enough not to ask to elaborate. They kept sitting ducks for another half hour or so when Wade called them.

  
“All right that’s it. Time to go home.”

  
“What happened?”

  
“Cam got a boo-boo.”

  
“Meaning?”

  
“He got bit.”

  
“Shit. Alright. We took this far enough. Come back.”

  
“Yes, ma’am. He only wants ass that’s willing anyway,” Emma rolled her eyes.

  
“Copy that,” she threw the walkie on the dashboard.

  
It was a clean cut, Wade did good work. Emma personally attended to the wound. She also filled Cam up with two Vicodin from her personal stash. Not enough to make him exactly comfortable, but enough to take the edge off. She watched him with a couple of others drive away in their fastest and smoothest ride. Wade strolled next to her playing around with a watch in his hands. Emma didn’t even want to know.

  
“Any sign of them?”

  
“Oh yeah, had a little chat. They couldn’t have gotten far,” he looked at her with pursed lips.

  
“Nah, they’re gone,” she said toneless and Wade nodded solemnly.

  
“I guess they are. Well,” he walked backwards to his truck. “This was fun and all, but boy we are already late. I come over in a couple of days, pick up Cam, or what’s left of him. Swap this beauty against the one with the sliding doors and the surprisingly spacious storage room,” he grinned. Emma flipped him off. Of course, the asshole would let her face Negan’s music on her own. Nothing she couldn’t handle anyway. Emma and Arat formed the rear of their little convoy back to the Sanctuary. The sun was just about to get down when her walkie cracked to life. She had expected Negan to bitch to her already, but it was Simon.

  
“Em, you copy?”

  
“Where have you been? Dude, the day I had,” there was a pause on the other end.

  
“It’s about to get better. Where are you?”

  
“Couple miles out of the Sanctuary on I1, why?”

  
“You know where Longrun Road is?”

  
“No?”

  
“Yes,” Arat said next to her.

  
“Yes,” Emma repeated, and she could’ve sworn she heard Simon roll his eyes.

 

“Get your asses here, just you. ASAP.”

  
“What happened,” she felt slight worry for Simon. “You okay?”

  
“Yeah, it’s not me, it’s. You gotta see it,” he said, and Emma shared meaningful glances with Arat.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes bullshit just blows up in your face, doesn`t it?

Emma’s father had a life motto he ingrained into her from a very early age. When in doubt, joke. So after she stood around with a blank expression in the light of three trucks staring at the carnage that used to be a bunch of guys with motorcycles she did just that.

  
“Maybe Bud’s ego blew up,” Simon huffed a laugh and gave the severed head a little kick. The head obviously had been alive until recently. Someone had put a bullet into his forehead. This undead business was really messed up sometimes.

  
“What you think did this?” Simon asked and looked at her. Well, in all fairness five years in the Navy kind of made her the expert in war weaponry. And war weaponry did this, that was quite apparent. Emma wasn’t ready to stop making jokes, though. Sue her, that was her way to cope.

  
“Well, I guess we can rule out the fist of God, but maybe a small meteor,” the most amusing part was how three of Simon’s guys and Arat looked up and observed the sky with squinted eyes. Seriously? Emma sighed. “Did you find track marks?”

  
“No,” Simon said so slowly that he might as well could have admitted they hadn’t looked.

  
“A tank can do shit like that, but actually I think it was an RPG.”

  
“You think?”

  
“I don’t see a tank. RPGs are light, portable, easy to stash. Seems the most likely option, considering this is pretty fresh, two, three hours tops.”

  
“How do you know?” Simon asked rubbing his mustache. Emma sighed annoyed and pointed her flashlight on a smoking motorcycle.

  
“Because this bike is still smoldering. Did you have a stroke?”

  
“I’m just tired,” he mumbled. He actually looked tired, too. But they were all tired. Sometimes you just have to suck it up. “Okay, the master question that comes to mind is who in the holy hell did something like that.”

  
“Someone Bud shouldn’t have pissed off?” Arat suggested.

  
“Yeah, no shit,” Emma said. “Could be the same assholes gunning down our guys yesterday,” Simon who had somehow prodded around in a pile of Emma didn’t want to know what looked up.

  
“What?”

  
“Oh, yeah. The big turn of events. Dwight ran, took Sherry and Tina. The group Negan sent after them yesterday drove into a shoot-out with three maybe more hostiles. Three are dead, one is in pretty bad shape. And the group Negan sent today, headed by yours truly, lost an arm. Not my arm, apparently, but someone lost an arm.”

  
“Who lost an arm?”

  
“Cam,” Simon frowned.

  
“One of Wade’s guys? What was he even doing with you? Jesus, I’m just gone for five days and everything goes downhill.”

  
“Speaking of which, where have you been?” Emma asked. They watched a couple of men gathering body parts in plastic bags. It wasn’t something Emma would have called a dignified endeavor. Especially when one of them threw up. She couldn’t blame the man. The smell was something to behold.

  
“There are some peculiar shenanigans going on at the coast. I was there to investigate, fruitless I might add.”

  
“Peculiar how?” he wanted weird? Why bother with tedious trips to the coast, there was a bunch of weird going on here right now.

  
“Looks like a group of psychologically challenged individuals collected the living and made them dead in the most spectacular way. However, whoever did this is long gone. Some of our guys scavenged around a warehouse and were unfortunate enough to fall for an elaborate boobytrap, though. Negan’s not amused. This won’t help cheer him up, or the Dwight business,” he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Alright, I’ll go to the Satellite Outpost, check out the situation there, break the news to them,” he stared at the remains of some guy. “I know for a fact some will not take this well,” at some point in the past the Satellite Outpost had been Simon’s. He still considered most of the people there more his than Paula’s. Emma wondered if she should do something, like patting his back.

  
“You want me to come?” she asked instead, down to the nitty gritty was more her style. He looked at her over the crook of his nose.

  
“No, I don’t want you there in case something goes South,” that was either sexist or oddly sweet. “You get back, be careful. Negan will be pissed, just sit through his ranting and don’t get audacious then you’ll be fine. I’ll be back latest tomorrow afternoon,” he had put his hand on the small of her back and rubbed some small circles with his thump before he let got. For their standards nearly tacky amounts of PDA.  
Arat was drumming her fingers on the steering wheel for a while when they were back on the road making their way slowly to the Sanctuary.

  
“These people Simon was talking about,” she started, and Emma turned to her warily. “Any chance that this could be like, the same people we met earlier? The guys with the W on their foreheads?” Emma blinked one time, then a second time. Shit, she totally forgot about them. Felt like weeks ago.

  
“Ah fuck, maybe. We bring it up tomorrow. Shit, that’s something we could really use right now, crazies who,” Emma stopped and gawked onto the road. Arat stopped the car slowly and now both stared at the scene in the outer fringe of the headlights.

  
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Arat mumbled and grabbed her rifle. Emma swatted her hand away and got a confused look in return.

  
“Stay in the car,” she ordered and took the gun instead. After a quick check of the mag, she slowly climbed out of the truck and looked around. Despite chirping crickets or cicada, she couldn’t hear anything suspicious. This day just didn’t end, did it? She walked a couple of steps and stopped good 15 feet away from Dwight and Sherry who somehow huddled around a motorcycle. She looked at them expectantly and when nothing happened except a stare-off she lifted the rifle a bit. Dwight shared a quick look with Sherry.

  
“We wanna come back. We’re sorry,” Sherry laborious removed a duffle back from her shoulder and threw it in Emma’s direction.

  
“It’s all there, the meds, the food,” these assholes had to be shitting her. By the looks on their faces, Emma’s attitude showed. She made a little jerk with the gun and a crossbow and a sidearm landed on top of the duffle. Emma scratched the corner of her mouth with her thumb and walked closer rather nonchalantly. She gave the gun on the ground a little backward kick and it slipped somewhere behind her on the wet asphalt road. The bow was no safety issue for now. She had seen Dwight handle a bow. She would be able to make two pieces of Swiss Cheese out of them before he could even fumble the arrow into the flight groove.

  
“What the fuck were you thinking?” she said lowly. Then louder. “Arat?” the girl came practically running. She picked up the bow, the gun, and the duffle, checked its content and gave Emma a little nod. Emma gestured her to bring it to the car and let the gun down. Sherry looked like she barely could hold herself upright and Dwight didn’t fare much better. Emma sighed dramatically.

  
“What happened to Tina,” she knew the answer. If the insulin was there the person who needed it wasn’t anymore.

  
“Dead, roamers,” Dwight just said. “We should’ve known,” he said, and Emma pulled a face.

  
“Should’ve known what?” Arat came back and shushed them away from the bike. She gave both a short thorough frisking (which she probably should’ve done first, but honestly, both didn’t really look like they could do something fishy even if they tried).

  
“That we won’t get away with it,” he said softly, and Emma sighed once more.

  
“Get the bike on the truck,” she ordered. Dwight complied, although he had trouble with it. After Emma fettered them with zip ties, because she kind of had to, and made them take seats in the back she turned to them, casually entertaining them with her gun.

  
“You already had. So, congratulations, you screwed up.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A blast from the past and a shotgun wedding

Emma was bored to death. Knowing very well that Dwight’s life was basically hanging by a thread (if you wanted to put it euphemistically) Sherry and he was pretty compliant. Both had spent the last four days in their respective dark cells, to ponder about what they had done mostly, only interrupted by thorough questioning. And Emma meant questioning. Negan was a lot of things, but physical torture wasn’t really his style. He preferred breaking people psychologically, with isolation, sleep deprivation, and humiliation. Didn’t save Dwight from catching two beatings and even Sherry earned herself a slap, albeit a rather painless one, when she got a little too defiant into the man's face. The only reason Dwight and Lucille hadn’t a little heart-to-heart already was the bike and the bow, or more precisely the guy who owned the bike and the bow, and the little safe-haven he had talked about. He hadn’t sounded like Kingdom or Hilltop or any of the other communities and when these people could score an RPG what other goodies did they have stashed away? Sherry sat in front of everybody, the whole board of the Savior Company, and told everything for the umpteenth time. Emma had been spacing out occasionally, thinking about this and that and all the bullshit tasks she couldn’t do because Negan wanted her here. She gave the bow in front of her a little nudge and it started spinning slowly which got her a look from Simon saying stop it and I am bored, too, suck it up. They were at the part where Negan didn’t believe they hadn’t asked for the guy’s name, so Emma focused on the bow again. She had seen a lot of Stryker bows, they had been popular for hunting and were quite handy with the dead. From a close distance, they had enough strength the penetrate skull bones, even of the living, they were quiet, easy to handle, short, the ideal medium range weapon. She even knew how to use one, there had been a time in a little more relaxed past when someone had taught her at least the basics.

  
“…many people he had killed,” Emma looked up.

  
“What?” all eyes went to her.

  
“Welcome back,” Negan said sarcastically. Emma gave him a look. Sherry stared at her with bloodshot eyes.

  
“What?” she repeated and kind of felt like a dumb parrot. “About the guy, what did you just say he said?”

  
“We found two bodies in the glasshouse and,” Emma groaned.

  
“Yeah yeah, Carla and Delly, you used to babysit them, Tina got bit, very tragic,” while Sherry looked uttermost shocked about her display of insensitiveness Negan and Simon looked amused, and a little impatient in Negan’s case. “When they dug the grave, what did he ask?”

  
“He asked Dwight how many people he had killed,” Sherry repeated slowly. She was fighting really hard not to start crying again. Crying wouldn’t get her shit in her current company.

  
“How is that relevant now? You are aware that she told us that three times already?” Regina said, and Emma stared at her. Regina didn’t like her. A very mutual feeling.

  
“Are you aware that I obviously wasn’t listening?” Emma said solemnly. Negan smirked behind the hand he had used to palm his beard and Simon looked like another day in the office. Regina, on the other hand, looked like she couldn’t believe Emma was getting away with talking to her like that. Gavin and she both. Negan cleared his throat.

  
“She has a point, Princess. And I would appreciate it if you focus on the task at hand in the future,” he said, and Emma shared a quick look with him. He shrugged. He had to say something to scold her, hadn’t he?

  
“Okay,” duh. “Did he ask why?” Sherry looked confused.

  
“Who, Dwight?” yeah, she did play the pronoun game here.

  
“The guy. After he asked how many people Dwight killed, did he ask him why?”

  
“Uhm, yeah?” Sherry looked from Emma to Negan and back on her dirty fingernails. Negan frowned.

  
“Anything you like to share with the class?” Emma ignored him.

  
“ – “, was what she thought. Then her brain went into overdrive. She grabbed the bow.

  
“How did he look like?” this hadn’t been a question before, she was sure of that. They all had been satisfied with some guy carrying a compound bow. No one asked to draw his composite sketch. Dwight might be able, too, come to think of it. She was fumbling with the bow trying not to hit anybody. Gavin and Regina stared at her like she had lost her mind, Simon more like he was at least entertaining the possibility. Negan on the other hand still wore the weird frown that could mean anything from mild interest to already planning her execution.

  
“Answer the question,” he said to Sherry while Emma was now rubbing around on the rear stock of the bow.

  
“Uhm, as tall as Dwight, I guess, dark hair, longer, to his shoulders. He had some old scars in his face,” Emma had found what she was looking for, the little, chipped corner and the deep scratches where she had tried to smash the security window in the veterinary hospital before Tyreese had made short work of it with a fire extinguisher. Well fuck. What were the odds?

  
“Did he wear a leather vest with angel wings sewed on?”

  
“Yes,” Sherry said.

  
“Yeah why he would get rid of that ugly piece of biker fashion,” she mumbled.

  
“You know him?” Regina nearly yelled accusingly. Emma could only guess what she was accusing her of. Probably to be in cahoots with him. Emma scoffed and slammed the bow down snapping her head towards the other woman.

  
“That is fucking apparent by now, isn’t it?” Negan decided to shut every possible shit down before they could run guns blazing into a bitching contest.

  
“Laura get Sherry to her room,” he ordered quietly and somehow coldly. “And you two? Take a walk,” he looked at Gavin and Regina. Both made a move to object. “Now,” he growled, and they hurried to obey. When they were out of the room and Emma was alone with Negan and Simon, the big kahuna turned to her.

  
“So?”

  
“His name’s Daryl. He was one of the prison guys I told you about.”

  
“The ones that got shot up by a tank?”

  
“Yep,” she sat down and folded her hands. This world really got small.

  
“You sure about that? That’s was six months ago and 600 miles away from here?” Emma shrugged.

  
“I got here, didn’t I?”

  
“Fair enough,” Negan got up and picked up Lucille. Simon looked a bit peeved at him while she schooled her expression into a poker face. First, this wouldn’t work on her, second, was he serious? She didn’t know that Daryl was hanging out in her neck of the woods, she had thought the guy was dead.

  
“You don’t really think she has something to do with that,” Simon snapped. Negan was now somewhere behind Emma doing God knows what.

  
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch,” he said to Simon. “Or do you really think I believe that your girl here and her prison buddies staged the whole rape truck shit to plant her in here?” he leaned against the table next to her, his back to Simon who looked a bit confused, probably unsure if Negan was asking or stating. Emma looked up to the man who put Lucille down and folded his hands on the knob. “But, given the current events and where they gonna lead us sooner or later, you, Princess, might wanna elaborate what they were to you. Because I need to know if - when we find them, and we will find these fuckers eventually - your former relationship to Tom, Dick, and Harry will be a problem,” Emma raised an eyebrow.

So that was what he was worried about? Wow! She took her time to think about it nonetheless. What had been those people to her? Some of the former Woodburians had been nice enough, but most had died from that swine flu or whatever it was. The closest she had been to Karen and that hadn’t ended well for the other woman. Emma just hoped she had already been dead when someone (Emma’s bet was on Carol) set her on fire. On her slow, painful and somewhat uncoordinated retreat (who would have thought depth of vision was an actual thing and she probably had the mother of concussions at this point) from the prison after the smoke had cleared she had stumbled over the abandoned get away school bus full of corpses, so the odds were small one of them made it out of there anyway. Rick’s people? Truth was she barely knew them. Daryl had been kind of weird, Michonne hadn’t been there a lot, Glenn and Maggie had been okay but kind of whiney if you asked Emma, she never got the hang of that Carol woman with her motherly act upfront and her full-on survival by all means thing behind everyone’s backs, and everyone younger than 20 had been basically ignored by her because she didn’t do kids. Hershel had been the only one she actually bonded with, mostly because he reminded her of her father, just with less petty theft and attempted fraud charges under his belt. He had been the kind of person that made you want to do better. But he was dead, so no dwelling in sad thoughts. And Rick himself? Something had been seriously off with the guy, but in a different way, something was seriously wrong with Negan, or Simon. It had been something she couldn’t put a finger on, but she always had the impression it wouldn’t take much, and the guy would snap. In what direction? She had no idea. Overall it hadn’t been like Emma hadn’t done her part in the prison. She had gone on scavenging runs, had set traps together with Daryl or Rick, she had even risked her life to get to that veterinary hospital, okay, mostly to get as far away from the sick and dying as possible, but she had done it. Didn’t mean she would call them friends, maybe acquaintances. Work colleagues? Fellow survivor of the end of the world? Peers? The question was what Negan wanted to hear.

  
“I wouldn’t necessarily enjoy seeing one of them die, but I wouldn’t lose much sleep if something like that would happen,” she finally said, and Negan looked her in the face with squinted eyes. Emma held eye contact like a champ.

  
“Who said something about dying?” he asked, and Emma scoffed.

  
“Today’s your lucky day! I tell you how it's gonna be. All your shit belongs to Negan. Y’all hand over your guns and we gonna take half of what you have. And then we will move forward. You are working for us now. One of you still has to die, but that is just how it is,” Negan and Simon looked at her after that little outburst in imitating Simon, Canadian accent and all. Negan palmed his beard and turned to Simon amused.

  
“At least she was paying attention then,” Simon said. Then after a break. “I don’t sound like that.”

  
“You kind of do. Alright,” he pushed himself away the same time he swung Lucille up his shoulder and barely missed Emma. She flinched a bit to the side and he grinned in silent victory. Asshole. He let himself fall down on a chair and put the bat gingerly in front of him. “So, I think you two know what you will do next. Your people are going to turn every fucking shack, barn, factory, home, warehouse, farmhouse, lighthouse and outhouse topsy-turvy. Hell, you will crawl up every shaft, mine, cave, every hole big enough for someone sneaking in and hide in a twenty-mile radius until you can tell me where these assholes are hauled up. And you,” he pointed at Emma. “Will give me a who is who if some more of your former cronies are alive and kicking. And then we’re gonna have some fun. But until then, to more pressing matters,” he leaned back. “What am I going to do with Dwighty and his pretty girl? Smart money’s on D getting intimate with my little lady over here,” he petted Lucille. “But maybe I will reduce the sentence to the iron and give him another chance when he lets me get intimate with his,” four months of Negan on a daily basis and Emma was able not to roll her eyes to that line. He looked at her expectantly, then some more, he just wouldn’t stop.

  
“What? Are you asking for my permission?” Emma asked slowly, and Negan chuckled.

  
“Be a doll, advance my proposal to both. Probably the best outcome they can hope for,” she knew better than to groan or to throw her hands up or to do something else making it perfectly clear that she thought he couldn’t be serious with that shit. She did something like this once (Girl named Amber. It went like this: she waltzed down, hovered a bit over the cot of Amber’s sick mother and murmured something like there are easier ways to earn points while sort of nodding upstairs. He hadn’t said it had to be fancy or with many words and it had worked, hadn’t it?.) and now she was what, his marriage matchmaker? After Emma had committed to the task with a halfhearted, awkward shrug she and Simon were allowed to leave so Negan could sit in a dark room brooding over the events of the day, or whatever it was he was doing.

  
“Your guys can check out the outhouses,” she said to Simon who walked next to her. He pretty much sauntered adjusting to her speed. 5 inches made a significant difference. He chuckled.

  
“Will do. You have fun breaking the good news to the freshly divorced husband and the soon to be newly wed bride,” Emma pulled a face.

  
“Thanks, I will,” she said sarcastically. Before they could split up to head their respective ways Simon grabbed her upper arm and pulled her into a quiet corner. All the conspiracy was unnecessary since no one was around, but that was Simon for you. He studied her face. She had expected that.

  
“It won’t be a problem, us, finding Daryl, maybe finding more of your,” he made a break. “Friends?” Emma sighed.

  
“No, it won’t,” he stared at her tight lipped. “Seriously, it won’t. I barely knew them, they left me for dead, I don’t give a fuck about them,” Simon kept studying her face with squinted eyes, then he was about to open his mouth.

  
“Don’t make me say it. Negan didn’t make me say it,” she warned him and now Simon sighed. Sort of frustrated. He still had her arm in a rather snug grip. When he stepped back he let his hand glide down until he reached her hand. He held it for a split second and let go. This was the closest thing she would get to an apology for assuming.

  
Dwight took the news by getting catatonic. After maybe 20 minutes of leaning in the doorframe waiting for any reaction, Emma walked away mumbling good talk under her breath. Sherry was more collected. And rather rational and practical about the matter. She currently sat with her knees pulled up to her chest and stared into the distance. She had scratched open a patch of skin above her left elbow and Emma stared at her going at it again with morbid fascination. She had mixed feelings about the wives. Sure, Negan wasn’t forcing anyone to do anything, he even let them go back if they wanted to and took them back in with open arms if they realized that the fact that being downstairs sucked big time hadn’t been a false memory. No, Negan was pressuring them into having sex with him and in Emma’s book this wasn’t quite rape, more exploiting, but it was close enough. On the plus side he treated them well, on the down side they weren’t allowed to leave the compound, they were barely allowed to go anywhere without permission by Negan, or maybe Simon or just recently her, they were basically prisoners. She didn’t put all her negative feelings about that bizarre, polygamous bullshit on Negan, the girls had made their choices. Tanya and Frankie handled it well enough, she could almost respect that, but that black chic was basically an empty vessel since Chad had been offed by her and don’t get her started on Amber. There were other, albeit harder ways to earn the points for meds. Hell, she could take a gun in her hand and go out there and scavenge for the man like Mike. Instead, she had chosen the easy way and was now a miserable mess. Sometimes Emma didn’t get people. Negan probably went off on her being all sad. He had a black one, a brunette one, a blonde and a red head, several alcoholic ones, a depressed one, the whole fucking set. Emma was half convinced Sherry wouldn’t agree, but maybe she was underestimating love here.

  
“That’s all my fault,” Sherry suddenly said, and Emma looked up from where she had examined her fingernails. She sat on the ground, too, her legs outstretched and crossed, like two co-eds in their dorms chatting about boys, clothes and human trafficking.

“It kind of is,” and maybe one of them had to work on her bedside manners. Sherry laughed humorlessly.

  
“I mean, I made him take us to get Tina away from Negan and here I am. Tina’s dead, and I seriously consider taking him up on his offer. It’s really ironic,” yeah, like getting cancer from chemo. This time Emma could stop the words from falling out. “We wouldn’t even be here if I wouldn’t have made him turn back,” and that was truly true. Emma wasn’t saying anything. She was trying to be mature here and let Sherry work it out in her own time. “He will really kill him.”

  
“Yeah,” Negan was a man of his word. It was his promises that were fucked up.

  
“And what about me?” Emma hadn’t thought about that. Nothing much probably. She shrugged.

  
“Get back to work, get back to earn points, I guess. Infirmary is probably off the list of potential professions, though,” and she would lose the one or other finger for that. You steel, you gotta pay.

  
“But it’s my fault,” Emma sighed and looked at the wall. It was weird that she constantly had to explain Negan to people who knew him way longer than her.

  
“He doesn’t care. You are not the one who brushed his ego and undermined his authority. You weren’t one of the ones he trusted, respected. He doesn’t give a shit about you per se, you are just a hot piece of ass to him, a pretty girl. Nothing else. It’s Dwight he wants to punish,” she really had a way to sell Negan’s good assets. Sherry started to scratch again.

  
“Why am I just a pretty girl, you are pretty, too, and you basically run this place.”

  
“Flattering will get you nowhere,” now Sherry had to smile for real and Emma allowed a lopsided smile in return. The moment was gone within seconds. “Before you are making any decisions, you are aware what that means, right?” she looked around if someone was eavesdropping here. “Marrying Negan is sort of a maid slash whore kind of deal and you and D are done, and Negan will remind you of that, loud, and often. Rub it under both of your noses,” Sherry nodded and just stared at a dirty spot in the corner. They sat there for what felt like an hour.

  
“That will break him,” Sherry said with a broken voice. Not that would break him, it will, she had made her choice. “Can I see him?” Emma scratched her eyebrow.

  
“Sure,” that was the least she could do. Wash them up. Feed them. Give them some time to say their goodbyes. She got up and stared down at Sherry, searching for words to comfort her, but she couldn’t find any. Time to break the happy news to Negan.

  
Just short twelve hours later, Negan didn’t waste any time and it wasn’t like he had much else to do, Emma was poking around in the furnace staring at the old-timey iron getting red hot. It was her third time of someone getting the iron to the face. There was an alleged second-degree punishment, the iron to the balls, but so far that had never happened, and she had never heard of someone actually receiving it, so maybe this was what passed as an urban legend in the Sanctuary. Gary sauntered up to her.

  
“I slipped him the pills, no one saw it,” he murmured, and Emma just nodded. Drugging up Dwight in advance had been her last-minute notion to help the guy at least a little bit, so she gave Gary three of her Vicodin to fill him up. No one would pay attention if he was high, especially since he had slipped into a stupor anyway. And because Negan didn’t allow the ones getting the iron to get pain relief she wouldn’t have to worry that Carson would accidentally OD him. That wouldn’t spare him the pain after, though. So still lesson learned, she guessed.

  
“Did you know that they used to call these sad irons?” Emma asked and pulled it out using the pliers. “Kind of fitting,” Gary just looked unimpressed. Typical, this comment at that occasion had been like comment gold. Bloody imbeciles. Where was Simon when you needed him? Although he probably did know that already.

  
There were no long speeches this time, no Negan posturing and using way too many words. Just him, Dwight and the iron, and one hard long look at Sherry to emphasize what was happening here. It again weirded Emma out big time that the smell was kind of mouth-watering. Dwight passed out. Good for him. Gary and another guy dragged him away followed by Carson, and Negan disappeared with Sherry upstairs. Emma shook her head. Sometimes she had to remind herself that half of the stuff happening in the Sanctuary wasn’t normal, but the world wasn’t normal, so maybe all this was the new normal now.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma oversteps. Negan's not amused. Simon takes sides.

It wasn’t a knock on the door that woke her up in the middle of the night, it was someone kicking the goddamn door in. She basically jerked upright, hitting Simon in the face with her elbow in the process and nearly fell out of the bed. Simon mumbled something like what the hell and what is wrong with you but was alert enough to prevent her half naked ass to hit the floor.

  
“What,” Emma snapped. Whoever used a battering ram to knock, opened the door cautiously. “What you afraid you ran into, it’s,” one short look at the clock. “Jesus, 3 in the morning,” it was Laura.

  
“We need you downstairs,” you who? Her or Simon? The man stirred next to her.

  
“Someone dead?” he asked flatly, and Emma suspected that Laura, behind the door, first shook her head, realized she couldn’t be seen and then decided to speak up, judging by the time it took to answer the question.

  
“No,” Simon dropped down on his pillow again.

  
“It’s all yours,” he said. Emma stared at where she assumed his face was. Wow, chivalry was dead.

  
“Just great,” she said and climbed out of the bed and rummaged in some haphazardly piled up clothes on a chair. After the fourth time, she pulled out some of Simons shit she just decided fuck it, who needs jeans. His shirts looked like a dress on her anyway. She slipped in her boots and stepped out. Laura stepped a step back. Over the last two months, Emma had slowly but steadily piled up people behind her. Negan didn’t mind. His attitude towards how the common foot soldiers fell in line was pretty relaxed as long they did fall in line and as long as one word of him would send them tripping over themselves. And Emma needed some loyal men and women anyways. Laura was the newest of many she had whipped from Simon, Gavin, Regina, or even Negan himself, and she didn’t know how to behave around her yet. Emma ignored her submissive behavior, she even graciously overlooked the nighttime disturbance.

  
“So, what is it?” she asked while walking to the stairs. Laura wasn’t answering, and Emma looked over.

  
“You need to see it,” she just mumbled.

  
“This better be good,” Emma said. It wasn’t. Three minutes later Emma stared at the broken figure in front of her. No need to rush it now. Brandon looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Josh, now sporting a weird steam-punk looking hook on his hand, actually trembled, and Laura was still the poster child of silent subordination. They stood there, their gazes on the ground, with this one guy she knew was one of Negan’s, Alden or something, looking at her in an open challenge. Emma’s eyes flipped down on number 39. A mother and a son. The son looked half dead.

  
“Why isn’t he in the infirmary?” she asked in a casual chitchat tone. The mother looked up enraged.

  
“He did that,” she pointed at Alden. Or Holden? Jesus, they should wear name tags.

  
“I’m aware,” Emma answered. It was enough to shut the mother up. Emma had a reputation. Emma was fair “So?” Brandon was probably a bit fluxed with what was happening here.

  
“I,” he began to stutter. Emma sighed. Fine, why hoping they would think for themselves after two years of Negan thinking for them, now.

  
“Get him to the doc. No points, she can go, too,” Brandon and Josh hurried to get the boy up. He could not be older than 15, he was basically a kid. Jesus H. Christ. Emma palmed her face and leaned against a small desk. She looked at the man hard. He didn’t look away. Great, one of those.

  
“Gimme your gun,” she said and of course he didn’t obey. Emma looked at the ceiling like an annoyed parent. He had no business in carrying a gun inside in the first place. Boy was this fucker in trouble. He just didn’t seem to realize it. He wanted it the hard way, he could have it. Emma was well aware that the average man had an advantage over her in a hand to hand combat nearly all of the times. If he wasn’t somehow incapacitated, or outrageously overweight, one well-aimed punch by a guy like Negan would break her jaw and knock her out, one by a guy like Simon might even kill her. There was a lot of muscle hiding behind these button downs. He had probably 60 pounds on her. But she had some things playing for her. She had the better technique, she was faster, and she always had the element of surprise, because she looked all kinds of cute and innocent until she sat on your chest. Ask Gary about that. She sucker-punched Alden in the gut and grabbed his sidearm rather casually throwing it to Laura who caught it without it going off. While he dropped to one knee and held his stomach she resumed her relaxed position.

  
“What happened?” she asked now and even put on a smile. He glared at her.

  
“Caught the little asshole with contraband,” he groaned. Seriously? In the middle of the night?

  
“What exactly,” she asked and watched the guy scooting over to the duffle bag that probably contained all their earthly belonging. He produced two glasses of marmalade. Emma blinked, and she blinked again. SERIOUSLY?

  
“So, you decided to kick his ass?” she asked. She looked around. Most of the worker cots were just separated by blankets. She had an audience the second she entered the factory floor.

  
“That’s the rules,” no that wasn’t. Even if he would have been caught sitting on a tank barely covered by a homemade quilt this wouldn’t be what the soldiers were supposed to do. These assholes got away with shit like that way too often. Emma had been pissed about it for a long time now. Her gaze fell on the sidearm Laura still held in her hand.

  
“You nearly beat a boy to death over two glasses of marmalade, by the authority of whom?” she asked and walked over taking it. Holden looked at that with squinted eyes.

  
“Negan,” he said boldly, and Emma checked the mag.

  
“Yeah, we will see about that,” she said tonelessly before she blew one of his knees out.

  
~

  
Emma wasn’t hiding. She was waiting for the big guy in the war room. Took him long enough. It was after sunset already. Simon was with him, too. He looked tense, worried, a bit annoyed. He might just be hungry, Emma could never tell. Negan spotted her and gave her a long, hard look. She still wore only one of Simons button downs and her boots, Alden’s handgun lay in front of her the mag removed and she had both her hands on the table. Emma wasn’t looking for a fight. She did it, she owned it. More people followed. Arat and Gary for instance, and Dwight. Emma glared at him. For a guy whose wife and sister-in-law had been workers downstairs for two years, he recently didn’t give a flying shit about them.

  
“It came to my attention,” Emma looked at Negan. “That you permanently disabled Jerry,” wow, she hadn’t even been close.

  
“I did,” Emma said.

  
“For doing his fucking job?” Negan asked and now Emma wouldn’t take shit.

  
“You want me to answer the question in front of everyone or,” she made a gesture indicating everybody to skedaddle. Negan palmed his beard, shared looks with everyone in his posse like at the end it wasn’t up to him.

  
“Leave,” he ordered, sitting down. Emma leaned back, too. Four or five whole minutes they just stared at each other. Fine, she would talk first.

  
“You made rules, you drilled them into everyone, you even wrote them down,” in a surprisingly delicate handwriting. “You came up with a set of very extreme, very abhorrent punishments when somebody breaks the rules, so when people step outta line they will be a permanent reminder for others that you better fucking follow the rules. And when it comes to issues inside the Saviors we all follow through this routine meticulously, no exceptions, no matter how fucked up it is to maim a girl who just lost her baby, her boyfriend and recently her father just for wanting to see for herself where the boyfriend died. You steel, you gotta pay. And yet here we are, with half of the workers sporting bruises and contusions, even broken bones, because some Savior assholes think regular beatings for no reason whatsoever is a suitable way of handling them. We expect the workers to follow the rules and we ourselves allow our own soldiers to do whatever the fuck they want when it comes to the people downstairs. That Jerry asshole nearly killed the boy for a minor violation and he actually thinks that was perfectly adequate, that he was fucking entitled to do it. They take away points and they take away stuff, everything else, everything physical, is up to us,” she snapped. Negan looked taken aback a little. “I wasn’t punishing Jerry for doing his job, I was punishing him for doing yours. And in contrast to Jerry, I was even in the right, I just skipped the part where I dangle him in front of everyone and do it publicly. Do I think some of your rules are arbitrary and excessive? Yes, I do, and you know I do, and I know you know I let the workers get off easy on occasion but cut them some goddamn slack. Because how it is right now they can use a break now and then, with the constant harassment through our own people. And I’m not doing this because I’m soft, I do it because it’s the smarter play. Next time someone will be dead and then what? When they think we play fast and loose with the rules they won’t feel safe, and a bunch of people that are scared and feel treated unfairly constantly will lash out, eventually. They aren’t blind. What you think they think when they see how Simon cuts of one of their fingers for stealing a bunch of eggs, but none of us doing anything when one of them is shoved down the stairs and breaks their clavicle for simply standing in the way. The workers are a lot of people, and tools and kitchen knives can cause damage enough. You wanna gun them down when they stand on our doorsteps demanding to lynch someone? Because we are heading there,” Negan’s face had become very hard at this. She had talked herself a bit in a rage here. She hadn’t even noticed Simon coming back in, now hovering behind Negan with a frown. She couldn’t tell if he was pissed off, too, like Negan, or here because he feared for her safety. She wasn’t done, though. Emma had already passed the point of no return. So, fuck it. “And then there’s the thing how it looks like when you just let your men presume they could make your decisions for you, maybe even better than you, and to where this will lead us if you let it go on much longer.”

  
“And to where will it lead us in your opinion?” he growled.

  
“To another Ryan,” she just said blankly. It could go anyway from here. Oh boy, did she just piss him off. She wasn’t the only one silently thinking that. She knew for a fact that Gavin had similar worries (yet less urgent since there were just a few workers in the Chem Plant and he treated them good enough) he just was too timid to speak up, like she had been, until now. This was not what she had planned the morning to go. Negan glared at her for what felt a million years. Suddenly he scoffed

  
“Jeez doll, tell me how you really feel. No one talks to me like that, you know that, right? Besides Simon and he earned that shit. What you heard?” he asked Simon never stop looking at her with squinted eyes and a set jaw.

  
“Enough.”

  
“She talks to you like that?” okay, Emma was lost, was he pissed, impressed, ready to snap? She couldn’t tell anymore. Simon smiled a bit.

  
“Oh, she does,” he said.

  
“About shit like that, too?”

  
“No.”

  
“You think she’s right?” Simon didn’t want to do it, she had to give him that, he didn’t want to take sides. It wasn’t a real contest anyway. He would take Negan’s. No amount of sex would change that. He sighed and decided to choose his words wisely.

  
“She does have a point that some individuals, unauthorized, might take some liberties considering the natural pecking order which, _sensu lato_ , will lead to an unnecessary agitation of the workers,” wait, what?

She hadn’t seen that coming. Negan turned and studied his right-hand man with a contemplating look on his face. She wondered if he, too, was wondering what sensu lato meant. “Blowing out someone’s patella was uncalled for, but so was the beating,” that was surprisingly diplomatic for Simon.

  
“You think about that often?”

  
“Well, blowing out kneecaps is usually uncalled for. I could only think of two, maybe three occasions that one actually applies,” Simon had a way of dissipating the tension with Negan. The man couldn’t help it that a grin crawled up his face.

  
“Don’t get cute,” he said. Simon shrugged.

  
“It crossed my mind that roughhousing constantly might backfire one day, but honestly I didn’t give it much thought. Because what can they do, hm? But yes, she is right. When we have to resort to basic violence when they pick up the pitchforks we cut in our own flesh here. I ain’t start grooming Brussel sprouts. So maybe being a little nicer, a little fairer and a little bit more attentive of our own people, when it comes down to the poor and dirty, is not the worst of ideas,” Negan turned around and now looked at Simon bemused with a head tilt. Simon held eye contact for a while, then he shrugged with a dismissive snort. "Look, the boy's in bad shape. Carson isn't even sure he'll make it. Jerry had it coming. She just got ... ahead of it. Call it quits. Although a slap on the wrist might be in order."

  
“Excuse my fucking French but saying shit like that doesn’t sound like you. Your girl got you whipped,” that earned him a condescending smile. “Fine,” he said and leaned back. He didn’t seem angry anymore. What did just happen here? “Pray tell, doll. What do you suggest to ameliorate the conditions,” what the fuck was that? Did he decide to deliver the aforementioned slap with a Thesaurus?

  
“What?” Negan chuckled and shared a look with Simon who did that little shrug he always did when it came to her and her little antics.

  
“You think we need to change things, what do you propose,” he translated. “What did you tell your guys? Saw them cozying up with the workers often enough,” he looked at Negan for confirmation. The man only made a whatever hand gesture. He probably thought what they all were thinking, that it was way too early for shit like that.

  
“Simple, back the fuck off, no constant hovering and trying to enforce by all means. Just when they are called or see something major. And I reminded them what their fucking place is and where to draw the line. That’s basically it,” Negan kept looking at her for a long while.

  
“Sometimes you really fucking annoy me and I wanna hit you in the teeth,” he got up. “Fine, not sure when this whole mess turned into a conversation about how I have to run this fucking place, but here we fucking are. I will look into it, or even better, Simon will look into it,” he slapped the man on the shoulder and walked to the door. “Oh, and Emma,” he turned around again. “I like to think of myself as an approachable guy,” he really wasn’t. “So, in the future when you’re bottling some shit like that up until you decide to blow the cork into some poor fuckers’ leg, just open your pretty mouth and everybody will be happy. Understood?”

  
“Yes,” she said.

  
“Great. Now I’ll go and find one of my girls to whip me up some pancakes. Love me some fucking pancakes, tata,” he said and walked out of the room, not without slamming the door shut. Simon stood around for a while. When he was sure that Negan was truly gone he pinched the bridge of his nose.

  
“What the fuck, Em,” he said exasperatedly. “Do you want to piss him off? Cause that’s how you piss him off,” he dropped on a chair. “You even know how close you were to that going massively wrong for you?” he was probably right.

  
“I’m sorry. I didn’t do it intentionally, it’s like a talent,” Simon scoffed a bit. “Did you just take my side and backed me up?”

  
“Yeah, don’t mention it. What can I say? I got used to your face as it is. And maybe you have a point there,” she pursed her lips.

  
“Always so charming,” she said with a smile. “Maybe I do got you whipped.”

  
“Maybe you have. I sometimes get the impression I spend half of my time picking after you, bringing you stuff or thinking your ideas aren’t half as stupid as they actually are,” he said in a sulky tone. It wasn’t her fault that he was super anal with his room (with the only exception that one chair filled with clothes he was somehow blind to) or his car. Carson could probably perform surgery in it at any given time. “But seriously, this is like playing with fire. Scratch that, this is you juggling some burning chainsaws on a rope yelling come get me bitch into Fates’ face. Over a volcano.”

  
“Colorful metaphor.”

  
“You need to be a bit more careful how you talk to him, not necessarily what you say, but how you say it. And why are you wearing my shirt?” he tried to look under the table. “Do you even wear pants?”  
Negan ripped the door open. This time he had Lucille on his shoulders. He also was accompanied by Dwight and Skinny Joey.

  
“What did she do this time,” Simon said flatly.

  
“Breakfast’s canceled. Looks like the Satellite Outpost got in some trouble, so Regina sent help. Turns out they’re all dead.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They bit off more than they can chew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I snuck a SPN quote in here

She had seen Negan and Simon angry many times, in Negan’s case mere 4 hours ago, but not like this. This was a whole new level of anger. She always had suspected that there was room for improvement, but still, wow. She was worried that they, especially Simon, would snap and start to punch the holy hell out of people to blow off some steam. That’s why she ushered everyone to leave and go to work, securing the perimeter, sweeping the area, finishing the ones of their former brothers and sisters in arms that had turned and stumbled now through the outpost, hell, just standing around and look pretty as long as it looked like they were very busy doing it and were out of Negan’s and Simon’s hair. Emma herself felt strangely disconnected from this mess. This was just the kind of thing that happened now. Everything was fine one second and everyone was dead the other. Let’s move on, shall we? She could understand why everyone else went through a lot of emotions, though. She felt real pity and some anger as well for her own guys, some of them were really crushed. These dead people had been friends, family. She honestly had barely known them. If it were Arat and the gang on the other hand…

  
She stood next to her truck, one hand in the open window, and tapped an arrhythmic beat with her fingers. A truck approached and effectively stopped Simon from pacing. He and Negan waltzed over. She couldn’t blame Gary that he hesitated to get out of his car. He just got cornered by two very angry looking, extremely large dudes and he didn’t look like he was bearing good news.

  
“You found Paula?” Negan asked. Gary looked around tense and made eye contact with Emma for a second. Looked like he did.

  
“Yeah, she’s dead. They all are. Shot, stabbed or torched on the kill floor,” Simon skyrocketed from anger to unadulterated rage. He hit the hood of the truck hard enough to dent it.

  
“That was the Hilltop. It has to be,” he snapped and started pacing again. He looked scary like this. Emma hoped she would never be on the wrong side of his anger. Negan’s wrath looked much different, way more collected. He had gotten very calm and cold, glowering. It wasn’t less scary.

  
“A lot of firepower went in there,” Negan said coldly. “That wasn’t the Hilltop.”

"Like hell, it wasn’t. What are we waiting for? We should drive over there right now, and,” Negan slammed Lucille at the same spot Simon had hit earlier. Everyone flinched. It shut Simon up alright. Negan invaded his space.

  
“And what, Simon?” he asked in a menacing tone. Simon could manage to return the glare he received from Negan for half a minute, then his gaze dropped, and he stepped back. “That’s what I thought.”  
Negan walked away a bit, too and palmed his face.

  
“Where the fuck is Regina?” he snapped at Emma.

  
“20 minutes out.”

  
“Get me Wade,” he commanded. Emma grabbed her walkie to comply. Three minutes later the man walked out of the compound, a flustered look on his face. “You were on the radio with Paula. Tell me every fucking detail, as unimportant as you think it might be.”

  
“Not much to tell, honestly. The comm broke up most of the time. She called in a code Omega, Saviors down, so we sent backup. She couldn’t give us much information. Group of ten people, at least, heavily armed. They had one of ours and she had two of them and was hunkering down at the safe house. She talked to their leader, guy named Rick. That’s basically it. When our guys didn’t call in I went here, and well, that’s how I found it,” Negan nodded solemnly. Jesus Christ. Seriously? What the hell was wrong with those people? They hadn’t even done something to them. Yet.

  
“That’s them,” Emma said tonelessly. “The guys from the prison.” Negan leaned back a bit and stared at the sky.

  
“The same guys you and Simon fail to dig up for over two months now?” he asked the air in front of him. Simon just scoffed and shook his head. Negan wanted to pin the blame on them? Fine. What an asshole.

  
“It’s not like we’ve lost them in a mall. We’re talking 600 squaremiles of dead infested woods, swamps, and marshland here. We are doing the best we can,” she said a little more pissed off than she had intended. Simon gave her a warning look.

  
“Not now,” he said lowly enough that Negan wouldn’t hear it. They did make slow progress in covering ground, even with nearly 100 people in 6 groups, but there had been some minor setbacks, like a herd big enough to overrun even them, and that serious case of pink eye that had brought half of the Sanctuary down. It had made Carson feel animated to dissolve into a lengthy lecture about personal hygiene and Emma had stood next to him trying not to laugh into the bemused faces of workers and soldiers alike. And it wasn’t that the scouting had been fruitless. Emma had found a couple of people in desperate need of saving that could now work off their depths with honest, hard labor. And guess what? One had been an engineer, so the piece of junk they called the main generator that had been held together by duct-tape, the occasional screw, and their collective wishful thinking was as good as new again. Not to mention the treasure some of Gavin’s guys had come by, a warehouse full of ready to be shipped out, over-the-counter pain meds. They’ve just eradicated period cramps and minor headaches in the Sanctuary. You are welcome! But so far no Daryl or anyone else. They could be holed up anywhere. That hick country here was basically purpose-built for hiding, there were areas you could only reach by boat, areas where you had to fight your way through dense shrubbery mother nature clearly designed to kill you with their thorns and poisonous leaves, areas covered with patches of swampland filled with rotting undead where one wrong step could cost a guy his leg. One of her people got injured every day, sometimes bad enough that back to the Sanctuary it was. Every time she had to patch one up they were losing time. Hell, that goddamn Virginia summer made it worse. Last week she had to cancel the hunt because three people hadn’t spoken up that they weren’t feeling well until they all went into full on circulatory collapse. Brandon nearly died, he still wasn’t 100 percent. Not to mention one of their cars giving up every other day due to the heat. That manhunt was a nuisance. Negan, of course, was sitting comfortably in the Sanctuary the whole time. So, what the hell did he know?

  
“Then do the best of someone better,” he growled at her. He should write inspirational postcards. Emma scoffed and caught herself another glare, this time from Simon, too. She was relieved that Regina finally decided to show up, late to the party, as usual. She snuck away, followed by Gary who probably only needed an excuse to get away, too, and walked into the Outpost building. She had to step over a lot of dead bodies. She found Arat in the armory, or what was left of it. The girl studied the inventory list.

  
“There were nearly 300 guns here, at least 160 sidearms, 47 combat riffles, 58 shotguns and 37 hunting rifles. 12 compound bows and a lot of knives are gone, too. So is the ammo,” that was unfortunate.

  
“And here was hoping the only thing they could do with all the guns were throwing them at us,” Emma said and scratched her forehead. The heat made the scar itch. “Alright, help the others clean out the bodies. Negan wants us to bury them on the tree line,” Arat and Gary obeyed without hesitation and left Emma alone in the ransacked room.

  
“I always wondered on what occasion wooden spears would come in handy,” Simon said behind her and she turned around. He looked rather relaxed now, but this could very well only be on the outside and meanwhile, he was channeling white-hot anger into a little psychotic ball to come out and play in the right moment. She wasn’t deluding herself here, something was seriously amiss in Simon’s head. She had heard stories that would send normal people to run for the hills. He was dangerous borderlining on crazy. But on the other hand, she was dangerous, too, and not very normal anymore. She even had to admit she might have a bad boy kink, only Simon was taking bad boy to a whole new level.

  
“Poking a bear?”

  
“There are no bears in Virginia anymore. The dead ate ‘em all,” he said flatly. He had a point. You probably had a hard time right now when you were a large mammal that had to hibernate in easy to access caves. “We should get Negan out of here, let Regina clean up the place. This hit was personal and it’s not safe for him, or us, sitting ducks like that,” Emma picked up a stray bullet and weighed it in her hand. “We need to find ‘em. Then we can finally get ahead of them and regain control over the situation.”

“You still think the Hilltop has something to do with it?” Simon looked at the wall next to him with tight lips. He clenched and opened his fists a couple of times with enough tension to make some prominent veins appear. Yeah, he still was pissed as fuck.

  
“You don’t?” he said, not really asking. “Is this Rick clairvoyant? I don’t think so. How do they know where to find us, hm? And it’s unlikely this was just a random raid. They didn’t take anything else. They left meds behind, food, the drugs,” well they hadn’t been very fun people in the first place, so this had been probably their last interest. “But they killed every single one of us, without a reason. They don’t even know who we are, and they can’t possibly hold a grudge against us when it was them who blow up our people. The Hilltop on the other side? That Gregory is a spineless, kowtowing coward, they all are. But I don’t have a hard time imagining that when they meet a group of people ready to get their hands dirty in exchange for some fresh produce they are more than happy to hammer out a deal.”

  
“That’s some grade A Sherlocking over there, Simon,” Negan said. He had sauntered up to them without them noticing. He could be very stealthy on occasion. “I even have to admit this sounds fucking legit. So, what do you think we should do? No, wait. Don’t tell me. Let me guess. Go over there with enough people to invade a small country and start killing them one after the other until they spill the beans, am I right?” he said in a taunting tone that Simon, to give him credit, wasn’t jumping on.

“By the sound of it threatening to kill one, in particular, should do the trick,” Simon said. Negan looked almost impressed by Simon level-headedness.

  
“You think about Gregory?” he asked and made a little approving sound. “That is not a shit idea. Maybe we should do that. That’s a first. Simon getting his fucking will at the fucking first try,” he sniggered, and Simon was trying to explode his head with his mind.

  
“Maybe we shouldn’t,” both men turned to her.

  
“And why the hell not?” Negan asked tersely. Why did she have to say that half random thought out loud?

  
“Ok, I’m not really sure if I understand why Rick and whoever is with him did what they did, but they went in here with very little information. Does the Hilltop even know how you look like? I mean you were never there. Me neither. Gavin and Regina neither, neither their men. Simon killed some kid in the woods nearly a year ago. How many people did actually see you there? Maybe 5?” Simon shrugged and shared a look with Negan. “They have no idea whom they just attacked. They think they ended it with this. They must. Because if they would know that this is just an Outpost they wouldn’t have done it. Rick’s a lot of things, but he ain’t that stupid. He doesn’t know we have an army. He doesn’t know that effectively he his outnumbered and outgunned already. He doesn’t know of the Sanctuary or the other outposts, because the Hilltops doesn’t know all that. So, going to the Hilltop and beating the info out of them might be an easy and kind of surefire way to find out where Rick is, but it is maybe not the smartest move.”

  
“Why’s that?”

  
“Because we would give away our advantage of surprise. I’ve attacked them once on their turf, by their rules, and it didn’t end well,” and it had been written trap and ambush and don’t walk in there all over it, but it wasn’t like the Governor, post cracked, or Martinez, para military know-it-all (these are the worst), had cared. “It will save us a whole lot of dead people if they don’t know we’re coming. I can promise you that.”

  
“You let that prick sound like some kind of boogeyman,” Negan stated, and Emma just shrugged to that.

  
“I just want to emphasize that we shouldn’t underestimate him. That’s all.”

  
“Still leaves us with the fact that we don’t know where they are,” Simon said and palmed his mustache. “I don’t know, Em. The Hilltop probably knows, and we’d be done with it and move forward,” he sighed heavily. He was really working hard on getting his composure back here. “But the decision doesn’t lie with me. So, what will it be?” he looked at Negan.

  
“I like Emma’s idea, but yours would save us a lot of trouble and time. How about a compromise? You don’t find ‘em in two weeks’ time we pay the Hilltop a visit. You, Emma, little ol’ me and Lucille. Show them how it’s done,” they slowly made their way out of the Outpost into the car park. “Maybe better if you stay away from that place for a while anyway, considering your current mood,” he grinned at Simon. The other man rolled his eyes.

  
“I can go somewhere without killing someone. I do it all the time,” he deadpanned, and Negan chuckled. He got serious again when he looked over to where a group of Saviors was digging graves. The dead had been laid out in a neat row. A lot of well-worn shoe soles on display.

  
“How many dead?” he asked no one in particular. Emma sighed. Apparently, she had to keep a death toll list these days. That’s what the world has come to.

 

“37 here, 8 in Bud’s group, 9 at the safe house.”

  
“Don’t forget the three that got shot up looking for Dwight.”

  
“We don’t know if that was them.”

  
“Oh, that was them. I got a tickle in my balls telling me that. That’s a whole lot of dead,” Negan said. “We find them one way or another. And we gonna make ‘em pay,” he said, mostly to Simon this time. “But it means you two have to seriously amp up your map game.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't take pink eye lightly, always wash your hands


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know where you live.

Emma slipped along a narrow wall and darted smoothly behind a vehicle covered with wooden spikes. It looked like a heavily armored porcupine. Left of her one of the dead had been caught in the trap and was starting to cause a fuss when it saw her. She scurried over quickly and knifed its brain in a swift motion. A quick glance in the direction of the gate maybe 200 yards away showed no commotion, but Emma stayed put for some minutes nonetheless. Better be safe than sorry. She pulled the hood of her dark blue sweater a little deeper into her face and the black scarf a bit up. She could have camouflaged it, but to be honest, the paint irritated her skin and she could allow herself a little bit if vanity now and then. She was alone. No one in her group was stealthy enough, hell, Brandon tended to end up performing a slapstick interlude three out of five times he tried to be soft-footed, and for all they knew the others had tight security. They might even booby-trapped the place. She used a cloud covering the crescent moon and sprinted quickly behind the relative security of an abandoned building. Arat hadn’t been happy when Emma borrowed her beloved Converse shoes, but what could she say, these sneakers were called sneakers for a reason. The girl would get them back, and if she had to cut them off her undead feet. Parts of the wall had collapsed, and Emma gave the ramshackle building a short once-over. Well, here was hoping the roof wouldn’t fall down on her, that would be one uncool way of going out if there ever was one. She slipped in. It must’ve been some kind of fancy model home judging by the kitchen she was standing in, the fitting alone, now covered in black soot, probably cost more than she had made in three months in the army. A fire had made short work of it. On the plus side, that meant all windows had been blown out. She might have had a better view from the second story, but she didn’t dare to use the stairs. So, the panorama window of the former living room had to do. It had a great view of a lot of high grass and goldenrod, effectively blocking most of the sight, but it was enough to work with. She let her backpack glide gingerly on the ground and pulled out the heavy binoculars. Night vision, handheld, military grade, state of the art three years ago before the world got shit-fanned. A really nice toy. She didn’t want to know whom the Saviors had to kill to get their hands on that. She cowered down behind the cover of a half-broken window frame and got a first good look on the settlement in front of her. Corrugated sheet metal walls, high, solid, and a heavy looking iron sliding gate. They were holed up good. She had to huff a laugh about the sign Alexandria Safe Zone, not anymore and scanned the upper part of the wall where she would put a walkway for any movement.

“You gotta be kidding me,” she mumbled. There was a goddamn priest in a fugly cardigan with what looked like a Winchester rifle playing lookout. She didn’t know him, she would’ve remembered that creepy, peaceful face. Emma looked around for more people, but the guy was alone. They could afford just one lookout, this was the only road in, but it didn’t mean that they weren’t more people around the perimeter. The position was uncomfortable and sweat started to run down her spine, but she kept surveilling for a while longer. She was close to calling it quits for now when something happened. Obviously, someone was coming, the priest had turned around, was now talking to somebody. He helped the person up. Tall, sweaty locks, way to warm looking leather jacket.

“Hello, Rick.”

  

_Two days earlier_

 “We are missing something,” Simon said and let the pen drop down on yet another map of Virginia.

“You think?” Emma asked with a grin. They were shuffling around possible locations for 12 hours now, so excuse her that she had propped up her feet and shoved potato squash in her mouth. They were going in circles and this was leading to nowhere. Simon gave her an annoyed look. “I’m not gonna lie, I don’t even remember anymore who the top hat is,” they had used Monopoly figures to indicate the scouting groups. Dwight’s was the iron of course. This had been funny for six hours or so. Okay, it still was kind of funny.

“Wade,” Simon mumbled. “For someone whose idea this was, you are no help. I bet you were great in group projects,” she groaned towards the ceiling.

“That’s just not what I’m good at. Point me at something to shoot at on the other hand. I’ll shoot anything,” she said seriously, and Simon had to smile. “Maybe they are Outriders and always disappear into the Phantom Dimension,” she suggested. Simon probably didn’t understand the reference. He was too old for Saber Rider after school. Or maybe not. She had no idea how old Simon was. 40 something, she guessed. He ignored her anyway.

“So, it’s official, they live in trees. We checked out every possible place for a group of ten or more to hole up in, twice, and nothing. I give up. Let’s just drive around for the next four days and then tell Negan we didn’t find ‘em. That won’t even be a lie,” he said and leaned back. “Maybe we run into them by chance and they can blow us up, too. I could use a little change,” Laura came in and Simon turned around putting his chin in one hand.

“How can I help you?” he asked in a bored tone. Laura looked a bit nervous.

“We had some roamers on the western perimeter tearing down the fence and we sent some workers over after we cleared it and doubled the guards,” Simon kept looking expectantly, Emma kept eating, Laura kept being nervous. “I hope that was okay,” Simon sighed. He didn’t need to know that.

“That’s spectacular thinking. I’m almost proud,” he said flatly, and Emma sniggered around her fork. “Something tells me that’s not why you’re here,” Laura scratched her forehead.

“Yeah so, I was thinking about the maps,” she said. Simon raised an eyebrow.

“Then by all means, share your insights,” she was standing around for a bit and then she walked over and rummaged in the pile of maps. She pulled out an especially colorful one and sent all the little figurines flying through the room. Simon made an annoyed sound, but kept his mouth shut. Emma got upright, mildly intrigued, while Simon crossed his arms on the table. He gave Laura an encouraging smile. Simon could play nice if he wanted to.

“What am I looking at?” he asked, because frankly? They had no idea what this particular map meant. They were a lot if borders and colors and hatchings and shadings, but no map key to explain anything.

“That’s an urban development map,” she said and looked first at Emma and then at Simon.

“I’m listening,” Simon said.

“So, this green one is rural area, the yellow one is suburban area and so on, but these ones,” she pointed at a couple of large spots that were grey and white. “Are areas planned for developing. So, when you look at a topographic map that is a couple of years old already, like the ones we have,” she was fumbling around with the maps again, hitting Emma in the face and making her sneeze for some odd reason. She folded her map and put it next to the map Simon and Emma had used, roughly at the same spot. “The areas here that just show wood, grassland or wasteland could very well be malls by now, suburban neighborhoods, or industrial parks,” she stopped and looked in two blank faces. Emma felt like laughing. Simon on the other hand rubbed his eyes like he was getting a headache.

“And why on earth didn’t you tell us that, let’s say, 2 months ago?” he didn’t even sound mad, he sounded exhausted. “Full disclosure? I really want to kick your ass six ways to Sunday right now, but that is literally the first new idea we are having in five weeks, so I will refrain from doing so and say good work instead. When this leads us to finding them you can put 15 points on your commissary,” that was a lot of points. Staring on maps all day long made Simon soft.

“How do you even know that?” Emma asked. Laura shrugged.

“I worked in a city planner office.”

“Huh,” Simon and Emma said both at the same time after a short silence. Laura looked up.

“What do you think I did?” she asked a bit defensive and Simon palmed his moustache.

“Time,” he said, and Laura looked really offended. She even looked at Emma for help. Hey, she was on Simon’s side on this one.

“He ain’t wrong. I always thought that neck tat is some white supremacist bullshit. Not that I’m judging here.”

“That are flags,” she said a little helpless.

“I think my assumptions could still be correct,” Simon decided to intervene.

“Don’t be a pouter, Laura. Help us check out if some of your developmental areas overlap with places we already searched instead, chop, chop.”

45 minutes later Emma bit in the rubber of her pencil and shot Simon a very bright smile. She pointed at a spot on the rails and moved the little iron there.

“Yeah?” he asked staring at her lips. Scar or not, she still had it. Laura was gracious enough to ignore the subtle mood shift.

“You know what this is? This is the spot D got nearly emasculated,” funny story. Not so much that they got away, more like how they got away. Negan hadn’t even been mad and recommended some ice instead. “Aaand,” she let a ruler drop down and drew a straight line over to one of the developments they had added to the map. “It’s only 7 miles how the crow flies away from here. First thing tomorrow we will check it out, maybe wait for the night to go in, but that’s a solid lead. If that ain’t the place your plan of driving around aimlessly will become effective,” she threw the pencil on the map and stretched a bit, showing of some skin. Simon looked down on her flat belly amused. He shot Laura a look.

“Yeah, so I should go. I’ve got like six hours of watch duty in 20 minutes,” she mumbled and basically fled the scene.

“Anything you try to tell me?”

“Not really,” she was rolling her shoulders. “I’m just so tense,” she said in an excessively sexy voice and Simon had problems not to laugh.

“You poor thing. Alright, I think you deserve a treat. You watched me working hard all day long,” he got up and held out his hand. She took it and he pulled her up. Emma made a show of stumbling in his arms. For a second he swayed her around and pushed a bang out of her face. He could be sweet like that, only when they were alone, though. Instead of kissing her like she had hoped he looked down on the map again.

“So, Alexandria, huh?” he said in a casual tone and Emma pouted a bit.

“Yeah, but tomorrow. Tonight, I’m gonna show you what it was I was doing in group projects,” Simon laughed out loud.

“Is that so? I’m close of throwing you over my shoulder like a caveman here,” he said before he caught her lips in a kiss. “You had it coming,” he said when he pulled away and lifted her up easily. Emma definitely not giggled like a little girl when he carried her out of the room.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Purge night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically Last Day On Earth and The Day Will Come When You Won't Be. I used a bunch of Negan's monologue, too. So if you are having trouble dealing with what happened to Glenn and Abraham I recommend you don't read it, you won't miss much when you're up to speed with the show. There are just minor changes that are important for the plot of that fic.

Emma looked around after Arat parked the car in the clearing.

“How did that conversation go? Simon, get me some guys. Why of course, how many Negan? All of them, but make sure they all look like complete assholes,” Arat turned to her with a grin on her face.

“Your Simon’s pretty good, your Negan needs some work.”

“That’s because I don’t really get the accent. Simon’s easy. I don’t even know half of these people. Who’s the guy with the sword?” she said. Arat looked around until she found the man in question.

“His name’s Mike, and he’s an asshole,” Arat stated.

“Then Simon did the job right,” they kept sitting in the car since that was what they were supposed to do. When Emma came back after 48 hours of surveilling the place and reported in that they had found them Negan had ordered her to stand down from everything involving Rick and the others. And she couldn’t blame him. She had been borderline emotional. She probably would have screwed up something at some point. Why had she been emotional? Oh, not because she was overwhelmed by joy that so many of them had made it out alive from the prison, no, she was pissed off that so many of them made it out of the prison cozying up in that neat place with the pretty lawns and the two master bedrooms while she had spent three weeks in the fucking company of lunatic rapists!!! Three exclamation points. She was halfway there to go in single-handedly, guns blazing. Okay, most of the time she dealt with the trauma well enough and did a good job in pretending that it wasn’t some kind of PTSD she was going through here, but there were nights she woke up panicking and basically kicking Simon out of the bed on the verge of an anxiety attack. Simon was very understanding about it, hell, he was even able to help her snap out of it most of the times, but it still sucked and her preferred choice of dealing with it was obviously random outbursts of fury. So yeah, while it was possible that they somehow managed to find each other by chance and she was just the one with the bad luck, she had to assume, if rationally or not, that they came back for each other, but not for her. And had she not helped them fix up the place, had she not worked her ass off on the fences to keep the roamers in check and had she not nearly paid with her life while getting meds for the sick ones? Not to mention that if Rick would have allowed her to sniper the Governor down first chance she had the whole thing wouldn’t have even gone down like it did. Way to stab a sister in the back, dudes. Four days of fuming anger and venting it with lengthy elaborations why they were assholes exactly had been enough to calm her down, but Negan’s decision to keep her out of this until now had probably been a smart one. Simon parked next to them and he got out with a gleeful look on his face. First thing he did when he learned that Alexandria was indeed the place they had been looking for was installing massive roadblocks all around it. Just in case. Then they had gotten lucky. First, they got themselves four of them, courtesy of Dwight, they initially had wanted to use to draw the others out. They didn’t have to, a whole RV of them, Rick included, had made its way to what everyone assumed had to be the Hilltop. The rest had played out like clockwork. And Simon even got the chance to get rid of some annoying individuals hunkering down in a library after Negan decided that four remaining fuckers with guns weren’t worth the effort anyway. He had used one of them to show Rick that they meant business. And since hunting down, beating up and killing off people was basically Simon’s trifecta of happiness it wasn’t a surprise that he looked like Christmas came early this year. He was practically bouncing when he came over and she maybe shouldn’t think that it was kind of cute considering the circumstances and what was about to happen tonight.

“Ladies,” he said and put his arms in the frame of the driver side’s window. “Isn’t that a beautiful night?”

“You seem happy.”

“And why wouldn’t I, my dearest Arat? Everything is falling in place like a well-honed machinery and we are about to transpire some much-deserved justice. Negan’s almost here with the intercepted rust bucket they drove around while they are in the woods delivering their sorry asses to us like the proper bitches they are,” like a cue an RV showed up and Simon straightened himself. History would probably never tell how the person driving it needed like ten tries to park it the way Negan wanted. Emma got out of her truck and leaned against it. Some guy with a ridiculous haircut got kicked out of the door and landed hard first on his knees, then on his hands. Simon made a beeline to the poor guy, pulled him up, shoved him to a spot on the front of the RV and made him kneel by simply kicking in the back of one knee. Simon wasn’t taking any prisoners tonight. Negan jumped out of the RV and strolled over. He nodded to Simon, a silent acknowledgment of his achievements the past few days, and smoothly put an arm around Emma’s shoulder, turning her around and leading her back to the RV.

“Buddy of yours?” he asked casually, and Emma sighed.

“I wish you would stop calling them buddies or friends,” she said tersely. Negan shot a look back at the man.

“I get it. Never name what you’re gonna eat, right? So?”

“Never seen the guy,” Negan stopped them in front of the RV’s door.

“Wanna take a look inside Dwight’s trunk? One is what’s his name with the crossbow, but who knows who else he brought us,” she had no interest in that.

“No,” it could be anyone. Michonne, Carl, Sasha, some random stranger like Mullet over there. She would find out soon enough.

“I can respect that,” Negan said and entered the RV, she followed a bit reluctantly. He basically loitered on a shady seat already when she walked in. Emma’s gaze fell on Lucille. “So, a while back I asked you if all of that,” he circled his finger around. “Might be a problem. Does your solid nope still stand? You were a little upset the past couple of days,” Emma scoffed.

“A little upset, huh? Try infuriated,” poor Simon, had to listen to a lot of redundant ranting, Arat, too. An eerie whistling started in the distance. They were close. ”They have it coming. They killed 57 people. They ain’t the good guys in that story,” Emma said, and she meant it. Negan would kill one, maybe two. “Not that we are the good guys, either, but they’ll get off easy here, considering,” Negan grinned.

“Good to hear, doll. Very fucking good to hear,” he played around with Lucille grip. “You wanna do the honor?” Emma raised an eyebrow. He was just shitting her, but she had no intentions to bash someone’s skull in, not only of some former comrades, of someone in general. Ryan had been a heat of the moment thing, but she didn’t really want to repeat that again.

“Nah, Simon would just get jealous,” she said with a half-smile and Negan chuckled. Outside the lights got turned on and both stepped to the windows of the RV to get a good look. Simon was currently rounding them up and disarmed them before he made them kneel. He was gloating the shit out of the situation.

“See that looks? That’s the looks of some assholes realizing they took a huge bite out of a shit sandwich,” Negan said next to her. Dwight dragged the four others out of the van and Negan sniggered joyfully to their surprised and desperate faces. Emma had already put on the mask, you wouldn’t be able to tell an emotion in her face with a gun to your head. It wasn’t that she was looking forward to what was about to happen as well, she was not enjoying it, but this was a necessary evil. But for her, that wasn’t just putting them in place, breaking them into submission, no. For her, it was justice for the dead. The Saviors wanted blood for their fallen friends, and they would get it. Didn’t hurt that they were on her shitlist these days.

“Looks like the whole gang is here,” she said tonelessly. “Alright, from the left. Asian kid is Glenn, no idea who the girl is, Daryl, Michonne, the carrot top is a new one, Maggie, she’s Glenn’s girlfriend, Rick, Sasha, no idea, Carl, Rick’s son, a little asshole by the way, and we already established that I don’t know Mullet.”

“His son, huh? Interesting,” Simon walked over.

“Alright, we got a full boat. Let’s meet the man,” he boomed and slapped the RV.

“Showtime, you stay till I’ll call you,” Negan said, shouldered Lucille with a smug smile and stepped out of the vehicle. Emma sometimes wondered if Negan was practicing his speeches. Maybe with the wives. He even was funny, although she doubted that any of the ones kneeling could appreciate the humor, it was an acquired taste. By the looks of it, they still didn’t know how to pick a battle, Ginger was basically begging for Lucille, but Negan was right. It dawned on them that they bit off more than they could chew. Negan was currently messing with Carl, who, she couldn’t see it very well, seemed to sport an eyepatch. Losing eyes obviously was a go-to injury at the end of the world. When he threatened to put Maggie out of her misery, and she did look like on the verge of kicking it, Glenn jumped up. Brave, stupid Glenn. Negan went on how that shit wasn’t flying here for a while and moved on taunting people, especially Carl. Rick yelled at Negan to stop it. The guy was lucky he didn’t earn the first hit of the night for that.

“I simply cannot decide. I got an idea. Princess, show your pretty face,” and well shit. There goes Glenn. If he wanted her to decide he was expecting her to choose one of her old pals, which really didn’t leave many options. He didn’t kill women and kids, not at the first time at least, Rick was off limits, he needed to break the man, and he had already plans for Daryl involving a lot of 90s Europop. She sighed and collected her face before she jumped out of the car. She got a lot of emotions slapped in her teeth here. From disbelief and confusion to desperation and false hope. Sorry guys, nothing good would come out of this one. Some of them, Michonne and Glenn, mostly, uttered her name now. The pleading would start after. Negan wouldn’t allow it.

“Don’t you like yourself a good reunion, Simon?” Negan asked, and Simon grinned smugly.

“It’s heartwarming,” he said, and Negan chuckled. Emma had stopped next to him and let her gaze wander over their faces and somehow got stuck on Rick who was moving his lips. God, he looked like shit.

“Em, Emma,” he stuttered. Here we go. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Hey,” Negan snapped and held Lucille right in Rick’s face effectively shutting him up. He sauntered over and crouched. “You know, Rick, I have to thank you. Leaving that resourceful, dedicated, batshit crazy, badass, little lady for dead like that was an in-fucking-credible mistake on your side and an enormous lucky break for me. We wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for her. Must really suck when a bad decision comes back biting you in the dick like that,” he grinned and got up. When he turned to Emma he opened his arms wide. “So, who’s gonna be?” she wasn’t wasting much time, Negan did that already. She got a little tight-lipped, because, well, Glenn was one of the good ones, but she made a head jerk to him anyway. Negan raised an eyebrow in approval, grinned and walked over to the guy who had the unbelieving look of a man about to die on his face. Simon made one of his men positioning himself behind the redhead, he did know his troublemakers as well.

“Anybody moves, anybody says anything cut the boys’ other eye out and feed it to his father and then we’ll start. You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry. Hell, you all gonna be doing that,” then he went for it. Full force. One time, two times. Emma wasn’t looking away, she did that, she had to watch it. Everyone cried out, especially Maggie of course. But there was barely any real try of resistance. There was never one. The people witnessing one of their friends to die by the bat were always mostly frozen in shock. Like they couldn’t believe that this was really happening. Extra security on Ginger had been a good call, though. DJ had to shove him down hard when he tried to get up. Negan wasn’t paying attention, he was completely absorbed by Glenn in front of him. It was, well, Emma didn’t even have words.

“Buddy, you still there?” Glenn tried to actually say something. “I just don’t know. It seems like you’re trying to speak, but you just took a hell of a hit. I just popped your skull so hard, your eyeball just popped out, and it is gross as shit,” it kind of was. Glenn was still uttering words, sounded like Maggie, I’ll find you. Emma looked over at Simon who had tilted his head with a skeptical look on his face. This was probably a first or something. Negan turned to the others. “Oh, oh hell. I can see that is hard on you guys. I am sorry, I truly am,” like hell he was. Jesus, just finish him already. “But you should know there’s a reason to this,” he paused a second. “Back to it,” he let Lucille hail down on Glenn’s head at least a dozen times, he was essentially hitting mush at the end. When he finally finished he stepped away laughing. “Oh, my goodness! Look at this. You guys, look at my dirty girl,” he waved Lucille around and threw some blood in Rick’s face.

“Sweetheart,” he said to Maggie. “Lay your eyes on this!” she started to sob a bit harder and Negan sighed heavily. He gestured between her and what was left of Glenn. “Oh, damn. Were you, were you together? That sucks. But if I were you, you should know your man just took one or six or seven for the team. So, take a damn look,” she had averted her eyes. It pissed him off. “Take a damn look!” Daryl jumped up and managed to get a punch in. Two of Negan’s men tackled him down and Dwight hovered over him with his brand-new crossbow. She didn’t really get why Dwight hated Daryl so much, she didn’t quite believe him on this one like he was overdoing his loyal to Negan act a bit there, but she couldn’t deny that he looked ready to kill him here and now. She shot a warning look at the remaining Alexandrians. Daryl had just bought Ginger a shit ticket.

“That’s not how it works. Now, I already told you people, first one’s free, then? What’d I say?” he snapped in Emma’s face without looking away from the sorry shits in front of him. She sighed the tiniest bit.

“You shut that shit down, no exceptions,” Negan was just showing off her loyalty here after he already made her an accomplice. Negan did nothing without a reason.

“Now I don’t know what kind of lying assholes you’ve been dealing with, but I am a man of my word. First impressions are important. I need you to know me. So,” he sucker punched the redhead hard and to Emma’s immense surprise the guy managed to get up again after the first blow. That was one tough customer. Blood trickled down his forehead, though, so Lucille had made an impact.

“Oh, look at that! Taking it like a champ!” Negan cheered.

“Suck my nuts,” the guy grunted, and Emma couldn’t help a little smile. He went out like a boss. She had to give him that. Negan chuckled and resumed the beating. After a while blood and brain flew around everywhere. Judging by the looks on nearly everyone’s faces the last one had done the trick. Negan paused for a second.

“Did you hear that? He said suck my nuts. Phew,” and he went back at it for a little longer only interrupted by “You bunch of pussies. I’m just getting started.”

He was pretty out of breath when he finally stopped.

“Lucille is thirsty. She’s a vampire bat,” yeah, that fell on deaf ears. “What? Was the joke so bad?”

“I will kill you,” all eyes went to Rick who had uttered the words half under his breath. Come on man, was he serious? He really had no idea when a fight was lost, hadn’t he?

“What? I didn’t quite catch that. You’re gonna have to speak up,” Negan said and crouched down in front of Rick for a little heart-to-heart.

“Not today, not tomorrow, but I’m gonna kill you,” Emma frowned. Well shit. Rick meant that. Not that he had any means to do it, but if the guy was one thing it was resourceful, so the threat wasn’t as empty as the bystanding Saviors, judging by their smug faces, might think.

“Jesus,” Negan said softly. She couldn’t really tell what the man was thinking. “Simon, what did he have? A knife?” Simon looked around contemplating among his man who held their weapons.

“Uh, he had a hatchet,” not Negan looked up irritated.

“A hatchet?” Simon obviously was a little surprised that Negan didn’t know what that meant. She was surprised, too. He had hit her with a word like ameliorate a while back. She had to look that shit up.

“He had an ax,” Simon elaborated.

“Simon’s my right-hand man,” he nodded up to him and then made a jerk in her direction. “Em’s my left-hand woman. Having a couple of those is important. I mean what do you have left without them? A whole lot of work,” at least he somehow admitted that Simon and she were doing everything. “Do you have one? Maybe one of these fine people still breathing? Oh. Or did I,” he clicked with his tongue and imitated Lucille hitting someone. He was wasting a lot of time here. Rick was still trying to hold eye contact, although he wasn’t quite able to. Negan didn’t like what he was seeing. “Sure, yeah, give me his ax,” he finally said. Suddenly he jumped up and pulled a struggling Rick to the RV. The level of sobbing among the others reached a new all-time high.

“I’ll be right back. Maybe Rick will be with me. And if not, well, we can just turn this people inside out, won’t we? I mean, the ones that are still left,” with that he threw Rick in the RV and climbed after him. Emma shared a dour look with Simon. Negan was his own personal safety hazard. Simon came over to her, casually stepping over the dead Ginger. After one last grave look to the people kneeling they both turned around and faced the RV.

“I’m not a fan of this,” Emma said lowly. Simon frowned a bit.

“He does have an M4 in that vehicle. He just snuffed two of Ricks friends, he can handle him. This won’t take long,” they watched Negan climb into the driver seat and trying to start the car. “Or maybe it will,” Simon deadpanned. Finally, the motor started, and the RV drove off. Great, what were they supposed to do now?

“Na ah ah,” Simon suddenly said. He waltzed over to Maggie who obviously had tried to get to Glenn. She jerked away from him. He didn’t even have to touch her.

“I need you people to stay seated at your designated spots, eyes down and we are all playing the quiet game. Understood?” no one was answering or looking up, so technically that meant that they did understand. Simon still looked down on them expectantly. “Don’t be impolite. At least nod,” he said and got some very tense affirmations as a reply. “Attaboy,” he said cheerfully which made Emma smile wryly. After 15 minutes of essentially nothing but watching a very dull and foggy new day dawning Simon sauntered to his truck and started on the paperwork. This had been an hour ago. They had invested a lot of resources and Emma was glad that she wasn’t the one sorting out how much exactly. She currently watched the Alexandrians with a mix of boredom, disinterest, and a little bit of pity, especially Maggie. She also wondered what was wrong with the woman, except a very bad haircut. A nudge on her arm dragged her out of her head. It was Arat with a bottle of water.

“I really like it when you wait on me hand and foot,” she said with a sly smile. There were in public, so Arat didn’t roll her eyes. “You ever have seen Negan taking a joyride with a potential client?” she asked her and Arat just shook her head. Okay, so no new information how long they were going to be here, not even the general ballpark. Emma sipped some water and was about to hand the bottle back when her eyes fell on Maggie again. Well fuck it, she wasn’t 100 percent an asshole. In hindsight the real surprise wasn’t her offering Maggie some water, it was Maggie taking it. Furthermore, her friendly gesture obviously humanized her again in the eyes of her former fellow companions because Sasha decided to speak to her.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked. Emma looked down at her. When she meant the Saviors and Negan in general then duh, hadn’t she listened when Negan explained it to them? And if she meant her specifically, well, basically the same thing. She wasn’t here because she had lost a bet or was Negan’s official biographer. “You were one of us,” she really had to scoff on this one. Had she now? Surely didn’t look that way from where she was sitting. And besides, what was that, a try to guilt trip her? And what did that even mean, one of us? She didn’t owe them anything. Emma ambled the 5 feet to Sasha, crouched down invading her personal space and put her finger on her mouth. They were supposed to play the quiet game, remember? When Sasha’s gaze dropped down, took approximately 8 seconds, Emma patted her cheek and stood up. She snatched the bottle out of Maggie’s’ hands in passing and resumed her spot a couple of feet away from them. Just in the right time, Negan came back. Whatever had gone down in the trailer it still hadn’t broken Rick to Negan’s satisfaction. And he wasn’t wrong. Rick and Carl (you didn’t need to be especially perceptive for this one) still had a lot of rebelliousness in their faces. They could at least pretend. That was what she would be doing. This was the kind of situation were honor and defiance really was just stupidity and a cry for assisted dying. In his own fucked up and twisted way, Negan was a goddamn genius. That whole thing with that ax, making it look like he was the reasonable one here, stopping Rick just in time, showing off how fair and generous he was? Rick was close on thanking him for that shit. Not for the first time she wondered what exactly Negan had done before all that. It looked like he had Rick now where he wanted him to be, but she still wasn’t 100 percent sure the impact had really gone down to the core, at least not for all of them.

“That’s a lot of ugly cry faces,” Simon suddenly said next to her. Looked like they were done here. “Come on, let’s go,” she sighed and held her hand towards Arat who gave her the keys for their truck. Emma threw them in front of Maggie when she followed Simon to his Dodge. He snapped at one of his guys signaling him that the driver’s cap was packed enough with the both of them. Before he started the motor, he looked at her.

“Seatbelt,” he said sternly.

“Seriously?” she buckled up nonetheless. “What?” Simon kept looking at her, at least out of the corner of his eyes, when he stirred the Dodge back on the dirt road.

“You tell me. If you have to go through some stuff here, I’m not judging,” then he said something she would never have expected him to say. “He didn’t have to let you pick the first one, that was a bit…fucked up,” huh. But he did, and she had picked, without hesitation. And just like that, any ever so small link, any connection she had had with the people was gone. Poof. Now there was an us, and then there was a them. There was no turning back anymore. Negan knew that, she knew that, they knew that. But she had made her decision.

“That ain’t it,” she finally admitted.

“So why the face then?”

“I just got a feeling this ain’t the last of it,” Simon grinned his smug grin.

“You think? Well, let ‘em try.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A practical guide to being an asshole

Emma was tying her boots when Simon came in and smacked a block on the table.

“Who’s your least favorite Savior on the premises?” What kind of question was that?

“Yeah, well there’s this one guy, really tall, creepy as fuck, has a mustache. I think he is close to the big man. Rumors are they have a thing,” she grinned at him and he rolled his eyes.

“Very funny. No seriously,” she dragged the block to her. It was a list of names, a lot of names.

“What’s that? Your hit list?”

“That’s every major asshole and a couple of decent guys in all three remaining Outposts and the Sanctuary I can think of. Any additions you wanna make?” Emma went through the list. She couldn’t put faces to all the names. And ha, she did know there was an Alden somewhere. It was impressive that Simon knew all the people among the Saviors, even the workers. He really did.

“Aw, Jared? Not Jared, he’s such an upstanding man, always so respectful,” she said sarcastically, and Simon chuckled. Gavin was bitching about the guy ever since she set foot in the Sanctuary and a while ago that asshole had dared to say stupid bitch to Arat. She, Gary, and Brandon got a bit overboard with the beating there and Emma somehow didn’t see any of it. “And why are you collecting assholes?”

“You can’t tell? It was basically your idea. We man the Satellite Outpost with the nastiest and meanest, the former rapists, murderers, and professional assholes, the baddest of the bad, so they will be the first thing the Hilltop and Alexandria will see when they try to get cocky again,” he lost her there.

“And how was that my idea?” he tilted his head a little.

“You are lucky you are pretty,” he smiled ironically. “Well, since they will be there, they are not here,” he looked at her expectantly and oooooh.

“Huh, that’s smart.”

“Thank you, it’s a win-win. We basically put together a kennel of animals we can unleash if we have to and diffuse the tension on the factory floor at the same time. That’s about all my input to the situation, by the way. Anyone you wanna get rid of? Now’s the chance. I allowed myself to put Jerry on there already, I saw the looks he gave you.”

“Aww, that’s a better present than flowers.”

“I can be romantic on occasion. So?”

“No, looks fine by me. Why the decent guys?”

“Well, I can’t have them tear each other apart every time I turn my back to them, can I? And I need some people I can actually entrust with making calls beyond pillaging and murder. I’m not planning on staying there any longer than I have to. I’ll round ‘em up this afternoon, drop them off to make the outpost nice and homey, and then pay the Hilltop a little visit. Introduce myself properly to Gregory and his merry band of sorghum farmers, get a good look on that Van Dyck I’ve heard so much about,” Emma looked at him skeptically.

“The picture of a dude on a horse?” she would be the first person who would admit she knew shit about art, especially not the appeal of pictures of a bunch of historical figures in hunting postures. Simon shook his head and leaned forward to give her a kiss.

“It’s a painting, not a picture, and the dude is Charles the 5th, and like I said, at least you’re pretty,” she had to laugh, and he gave her another kiss.

“Aw, aren’t you just the sweetest thing,” Simon sighed and turned around. Negan grinned at him smugly.

“Jealous?”

“Nah, I know you love me more. The men are a-waiting. Lined up for you to thin out the herd,” Simon looked at Emma apologetically, grabbed his stuff and left the room after a mock salute to Negan. He grinned down at her.

“Ready to check out that place I’ve heard so much about from the inside?” Emma got up.

“Sure, let’s see what they have,” while they walked downed to the parking lot where their trucks had gathered Negan turned to her.

“Got a present for you,” he grinned. “You did good the other night,” she closed her eyes a bit and took a deep breath. Did she now? All she did was nodding at someone and standing around. They stopped in front of a big Ford pickup truck. Emma looked at Negan amused.

“Tada,” he said dangling car keys in front of her.

“A new truck,” she said flatly. He made a show of looking offended that she wasn’t jumping up and down right now.

“What? That ain’t a nice surprise?” Emma always was pretty good at reading Negan’s mood, and today he was in a good mood, so she could allow a little friendly banter.

“You got me a new truck, which happens to look like the same truck I came across a while back? That present is quasi a present from me to myself with you just being an extra step,” he looked at her amused.

“Don’t be like that. It’s the gesture that counts. When did Simon get you something nice like that?” Emma made a serious face.

“He just got rid of a guy that may or may not be planning to murder me,” there was a moment of seizing each other up and then Negan grinned.

“That ain’t a fucking contest,” he stated. Emma shrugged.

“If it were you would be losing,” he walked away huffing a laugh.

“Get in the damn truck,” he said over his shoulder. Four short hours and a lot of Negan marking his new territory later Arat whistled next to Emma.

“Look at that place,” they had just sent the men to collect their 50 percent of their shit, which was code for ransacking, and Negan was sauntering away with Rick.

“Yeah,” Emma said, and the anger was back again. She swallowed it down. “Stay close to Negan. I’ll be right there,” she said. Arat complied. Emma walked over to a porch of a house that looked unoccupied and sat on the stairs. In hearing distance, Dwight was talking to some of them. It was about Daryl’s bike or some shit. He brought his A-game in harassing people. When they drove off he looked after them for a while.

“That was some real smooth assholing. Negan would be proud,” she said to him. He jumped a little. He obviously hadn’t seen her. By the looks of it, he was a bit embarrassed. Emma wasn’t sure what to make out of Dwight the past few weeks. No question what Negan’s interest in the guy was, but that whole poster child of the Saviors thing was getting a bit old. Was he for real? Even with what had happened to him this was a bit of a strong metamorphosis. Maybe he was hurting Sherry on purpose, maybe it was an act, maybe he did indeed turn into a grade A asshole. Either way, she kept an eye on the man.

“Thanks?” Emma scoffed.

“That wasn’t a compliment. Go do something. Ain’t Daryl your job?” Dwight skedaddled. And then that Daryl bullshit. He would never break him, not like that. He had a better chance on breaking him with giving him a hose down, a manny-pedi and a haircut. Emma sighed and looked around. Really nice place indeed. Her grandfather had lived in a neighborhood like that. He had been a Captain in the Navy, you could tell that from a mile away. The total army type. He probably would have pinged when you would have clinked him with a fork. Her Dad, of course, had hated him and the other way around. So, when she, 18, and with no formal education but a barely passed GED, had hated her father for leading her down the only road he knew, one of petty crimes, her way of rebellion had been joining the Navy, too, with a lot of pulling strings by her grandfather. In the end, she had managed to disappoint them both. It didn’t matter now, they were dead. Emma got up with a groan. She was getting too old for sitting in cars all day. She strolled through the neighborhood for some time, aware of the looks she got and asking herself if they knew who she was or just eyed every Savior the same when Gary walked up to her.

“Look at that shit,” he said and held a video camera in her face. The next few minutes Emma browsed through the worst episode of America’s Homevideos ever. Jesus, whatever had happened to the people during their trip from Georgia up to here they maybe had it worse than her after all. She stopped at Rick and huffed annoyed. Look at that asshole, being all tough and badass, like he had understood it all. Hubris is a bitch. She handed the camera back to Gary.

“Get it to Negan,” she said, and Gary just nodded. Speaking of which. Where was the man? She continued her promenade through the place. Jeez, it was massive and way prettier than the Sanctuary. Maybe they should relocate these people and move in. Some guys carried out random stuff from the houses, it didn’t really follow any pattern. The thing with the mattresses was part of their usual play, though. Take most, not all. Take away a bit of their luxury, make their life just a little bit more uncomfortable. They didn’t even need the mattresses, they had enough at the Sanctuary. They would burn them somewhere where the folks of Alexandria would find them. Just another of many slaps in the face. They would also take all their guns and all their meds, too. In time, when they resigned themselves into the new, well, arrangement, they would get some of the latter back if they need any. Negan was generous like that. Although, judging by the massive amount of hate that was slapped in her face here, that time was way in the future if they ever got there. She jumped when a window busted basically next to her head, the cause clearly a gunshot. What the hell? She sprinted up the stairs and pulled the door open. It was probably stupid to run in here like that without knowing what was going on, how many guns were in the room and who was wielding them around, but hey, she did stupid all the time. Seemed to work out fine for her. It was, how had Negan put it, the little future serial killer.

“Put some back or the next one goes in you,” well shit. The kid was either very badass or very stupid. Her money was on a solid mix of both.

“Kid what do you think happens next? You die,” okay, David wasn’t super wrong here, but also

“Just shut your mouth, David,” she said annoyed and impatient. Carl with a gun wasn’t exactly giving her the creeps and besides he had been aiming several inches too far to the left to hit that asshole. Like he did now, just that the gun was pointed at her. Well, that wasn’t surprising. He probably hated her guts.

“Now what? You got me. What you gonna do about it?” her nearly languid attitude was clearly irritating him, but Emma couldn’t get any further in showing off what a dick she could be. Negan would steal the show on that one any time. He assessed the situation in heartbeat and grinned like a schoolboy just getting a good look at his first skin magazine.

“Of course,” he sniggered. “Really kid?” Negan looked at Rick, close on being in panic, and then at her. She shrugged. Obviously. Carl, unlike his father, put all he had in his bravado.

“You should go. Before you find out how dangerous we all are,” dear me. This was like street theatre. It didn’t take much not so subtle threatening and the gun wandered from Carl’s into Rick’s hand and further to Negan. He was right, time to check out the armory. It said a lot about them that they were well endowed with guns, not even half of them the ones they had taken from the Outpost, but not very well off on food. Emma bridged the quite boring raiding of the armory by staring at the pantry lady just to make her nervous. It worked. Arat held a book in her face.

“What am I looking at?” Emma asked flatly until she saw the two circles. Took her long enough. Arat even had put question marks behind them. “Huh,” Emma scoffed. “You sure?”

“I checked twice.”

“Alright,” with that she grabbed the woman, Olivia if she remembered correctly, and dragged her out to Negan. She got herself a bit of a scolding look because of the rough treatment of the nice lady, but Negan’s frown addressed Rick and Olivia real fast instead when he learned that they were short on guns.

“Keeping track of guns? This shit is death and life. Emma,” Negan said without looking away from Olivia.

“Yeah?”

“What do you suggest?” she looked around in the crushed faces of the bystanding Alexandrians. The people could use someone cutting them some slack just a little bit. And maybe killing people every time they paid them a visit wasn’t an ideal start for their business relationship.

“Give ‘em an hour. Not all of the fine people here were with us the other night. Maybe some of them don’t really internalize yet what happened there, what will happen here if they don’t play nice. Maybe Rick can draw them a picture again? Maybe he could use a little more red this time?” she looked straight-faced at Rick who tried to stare back, but at the end just nodded. She sounded like Simon there. Negan seemed delighted by what she just said.

“Em’s got way more faith in you on this one than I, Rick. You don’t wanna disappoint her, do you now? What are you waiting for, get me my guns!” When Rick hurried away to round up people for putting together proper search parties, or however he planned on spending his remaining 58 minutes, Negan turned to her.

“You got the impression this place is a bit short on people, too?” she asked him because she did. Half of the ones that had been there during purge night weren’t even here at the moment. At least she hadn’t seen them, and since everyone else was basically standing on the pavement her assumption still stood.

“The widow kicked the bucket,” he said. That was sad to hear. Emma hadn’t expected her to die over this, she did look like shit, but still. ”And you heard Rick. Some of his folks are out there hopefully scavenging me more shit.”

“Without guns?” Negan frowned on that and bit his bottom lip.

“Huh, you are being very fucking suspicious around these people. I like that. Keeps your people alert. But lighten up a bit. You worse than Simon,” he grinned and put his arm around a very tense and scared Olivia. “55 minutes,” he said loudly to no one in particular when he walked away. Emma shot Olivia an encouraging smile for some reason, although for the woman it was probably Emma giving her the you-are-about-to-die face, but anyway, she had tried. She pursed her lips a bit. That gun business was fishy. If she would be them she wouldn’t hide guns that you later cannot account for in a pencil written inventory list. Come on Rick, you can do better than that. Or was that some kind of trick? Hide away some guns, suddenly producing them, all was well, sidetracking them from the possibility that they very well may stash away more firearms? Now that was something she would do. Well, she didn’t know and unless she didn’t start turning the place upside down, which she was way too lazy to do, she wouldn’t find out now. Maybe she was overly suspicious here indeed. The most likely possibility the thing here went down was some asshole stashing away guns without Rick noticing. Then good luck finding them for Olivia’s sake. When she turned around to go about her business she was greeted by Arat and the rest of her gang. She looked at them quizzically.

“None of you anything to do?”

“I don’t trust that woman,” Arat spat. Emma looked at her amused. Seriously? Olivia was the bad guy here?

“You think the pantry lady did it? Don’t be an idiot, look at her,” all eyes fell to the woman sitting next to Negan on a garden bench. Poor thing was well aware that half a dozen thugs were just ogling her now like she was displayed for meat inspection. Yeah, Emma was making it worse for the woman every minute here. “Look how tense she is. You take that bench away she still will be sitting like this,” Arat shrugged.

“Maybe,” she mumbled. Emma gave her a little nudge.

“Go do something useful. Get me that armchair. Will look great in my room. Come one.”

After Arat left Emma sighed. Well, this was boring. She watched the Alexandrians scurry away after their little pow-wow in the church. Rick made a beeline to one house and disappeared in it. Interesting. He obviously suspected someone specifically and the person wasn’t here. Maybe Rick hadn’t these people as much under control as he thought he had. Emma looked around. Despite go and take away lunch money she had literally nothing to do. Might as well get comfortable. She watched that creepy priest walk into the house Rick still was in and coming out again while she was chewing on a stale granola bar with her ass firmly seated on some stairs of a patio. He spotted her and just stared at her for a while with that dovish face. Wow, he would really come over to her in three, two, one. The priest began to move and ambled in her direction with a little smile like he wasn’t aware of the fact that his faith wasn’t making him bulletproof for real. He stopped a couple of feet away from her, his hands folded in front of his body, smiling down on her. He gotta be shitting her.

“That better be good,” she said and leaned back a bit. For a while, she eyed up to him through her bangs while he eyed down on her.

“I’m Father Gabriel,” he said, and Emma huffed a laugh. A black priest named after an archangel. Sure, why the hell not.

“Of course you are.”

“And you must be Emma,” so she had been town talk. Flattering.

“Guilty as charged.”

“Rick told us about you,” he continued. Nothing good, most likely. That guy creeped her out big time. So, joking it was.

“Did he tell you about my great sense of humor and my killer abs? Seriously, it’s like an eight-pack underneath here,” she tugged a bit on her shirt. He was a professional minister, he probably could call her try for deflecting here. In hindsight, she wondered why she had let him keep talking, or why she had him allowed to come to her in the first place.

“Not just now, your parts in what happened the other night. I heard of you before,” Emma squinted her eyes.

“Careful now,” she warned lowly and although it had an effect, she could tell by the little flinch, the priest didn’t stop talking.

“From Rick, Sasha,” after a break. “Maggie, Glenn,” this was a low blow. Okay sure, guilt-tripping was probably in a priest's job description, but still a very low blow. “How you were with them. Before, in the prison. You used to help people. You used to be good,” well shit, he just really went in nuke first. What happened with diplomatic solutions? She got up slowly. She was taller than him, more threatening by her entire demeanor, months in the company of the Saviors kind of saw to that. He stepped a step away unconsciously when she invaded his personal space and stared him down, the blind eye probably glaring more than the other one. Time to end this, turn the whole situation around before he could tell that his words had made an impact.

“Good how, father, hm? What passes as good for you nowadays? Good as in invading some strangers home, killing them in their sleep cowardly in the cover of the night? What happened with do not participate in the unfruitful deeds of darkness, Gabe?” oh yeah, and her grandfather had been a bible thumper on top of being a red-blooded American male and model G.I. Joe. The priest wasn’t saying anything to that.

“Were you there?” she asked lowly. Her tone forced him to look up. Oh, he had, she could tell. “Did you kill someone?”

“I have,” at least he owned it, she had to give him that.

“Look around,” she ordered, and he did. She leaned forward a bit, was now practically whispering in his ear. “Look what good your good got you,” she let that sink for a second. Her eyes snapped from where she had looked down on the man to Rick, Carl and the guy from the other night, the guy with the locks she didn’t know, who just came back out of the house. Rick clearly couldn’t decide what the pressing matter here was: she crowding his priest, David harassing some girl or he delivering Negan the missing guns. The guns, idiot. Emma’s eyes flicked to David. She wondered if it was too late to put this major asshole on Simon’s major asshole list.

“Back off David, still a lot of heavy lifting to do,” she barked at him and the guy jumped before he threw something in front of the girls’ feet and walked away, taking his buddies with him.

“Well look at that,” she said with a jovial grin on her face to the priest. “Looks like I’m still helping,” she gave the man a little flip on his collar, walked a couple of steps backward away from him and turned around with an elegant swing. She suddenly stood right in front of Rick. Great timing.

“We found ‘em,” he said. He held a little bag in her direction. Emma looked down on the bag, back to Ricks' face and made a little impatient shrug.

“Do I look like an errand boy to you?” she refrained from saying something cheap like this had been Glenn’s job, amirite? Yeah, fuck you, Father Gabriel. Rick glared at her with barely hidden hostility. That man had a list, too, a hit list for real. Negan was on top of it, probably in all caps, but she would bet her name came before even Simon’s and not surrounded by hearts and flowers either. They had an audience, Arat and the boys for starters, but also Negan looking over amused. Odds are he had seen the little standoff with the priest as well. She took a not so subtle look down on Lucille who Rick had grabbed really, really tight and looked up with a little smirk. She leaned in a little like she had done with a priest.

“Oh, I dare you, Rick. Try something,” he wouldn’t. They were comparing dicks here, his was obviously enormous or so he thought, but hers had six heavily armed gorillas at its disposal and at the end, it wasn’t the size, it was what you could do with it. He averted her gaze and passed her after a second of hesitation, taking Carl and whatever his name was with him. Emma looked after him with a sardonic grin that disappeared the instant she turned away from Negan. Jesus, she couldn’t make it any clearer here to whom she belonged to if she would start to kill off random people.

Negan was pleased with Rick’s compliance. Emma was mostly relieved that they were done here. She wrapped up things with Arat in the armory and quickly checked out if David and the dick brigade hadn’t left any meds behind. Most of the other stuff was still there, they couldn’t leave them here unable to patch up a flesh wound, could they now? She had hoped she would arrive at the gate just in time to get in the car and hell out of dodge, but she just came late to Negan’s last round of taunting Rick, instead. Negan handed her the hunting rifle Rick had just given him. Usually, she didn’t carry a weapon, she didn’t have to, but she knew her guns and that was a very nice toy. Remington 700, Mark 4 scope, bipod, .300 mag. Eight of the 10 bullets were missing. If Michonne had needed 8 tries to get that deer down the woman was a terrible shot and this had been one daft animal.

“Another one,” Negan cheered when a roamer showed up. “You need our help. Emma, do the honor,” she barely had to aim. A really nice toy. She might even keep the rifle for herself. When they were finally on the road Emma let her finger glide over the crude carving of a baseball bat on the stock of the Remington.

“Maybe you’re not so wrong after all,” she said and Arat looked over with a question mark on her face. “Maybe we can’t trust that Olivia. That’s one of ours, and it wasn’t on the list.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A road trip and some bad decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> discussion of miscarriage, if this kind of stuff triggers you...be warned

Emma went on 4 hours of sleep since she was 19 and getting those 4 hours in one go without interruption by a 200-pound furnace that somehow ended up on top of her or rammed its elbows in her rips was practically a vacation. So, Laura shouldn’t look so surprised when she came to the armory of the Sanctuary around 8 a.m. the next day just to find that Emma had already meticulously cross-referenced all the weapons they had just taken from Rick with the ones missing from the Satellite Outpost. She initially had wanted the smug bastard David to do it (it was bullshit work) but sometime around 3 last night, she had decided to do it herself. That asshole probably couldn’t count to 11 due to a lack of fingers anyway and most likely didn’t know a sidearm from an RPG.

“You can tell Negan they’re all there,” she said. She was almost disappointed. Emma had expected a little more ingenuity from them. Laura looked at her skeptically.

“Since when are you here?” Emma just shrugged.

“Around 5, I guess. Couldn’t sleep,” while the 4-hour statement still stood another reason for that was that bloody priest and how he had gotten under her skin. She was pissed that he had managed that and on edge ever since, which pissed her off even more. Monotonous counting of one identical sidearm after the other had at least taken her mind off.

“Wade’s here,” Laura said now, and Emma looked at her with a frown.

“Why?”

“Regina sent for you, I guess. I don’t know why,” wasn’t it nice to be so popular? She found him standing next to a decent looking station wagon chatting up Arat. The man flirted with anyone whose secondary sexual characteristics weren’t dangling between their legs. Not with her, though. Emma liked to think because he respected her too much, but who was she kidding because Simon was one hell of a scary motherfucker.

“Where’s the fire?” she asked. Wade actually excused himself from Arat with a little bow, and Emma could’ve sworn the girl blushed before he turned to her.

“Good morning. You are requested at the Shephard Office Plaza. It’s about your girlfriend, something’s wrong with her,” Emma frowned at him. The girlfriend in question was Tina, Tina from the thing that Negan casually referred to as rape truck. Emma liked to refer to the event as something that hadn’t happened. And since that hadn’t happened, and Dalia and Tina kind of agreed with her on that, they hadn’t cozied up and became best friends. Everyone had gone about their own business. It wasn’t like Emma had entirely forgotten. After her promotion to third head honcho she was the only one who could do something to make their lives a little easier, so she had made sure that both had nice, laid-back, safe jobs, always enough points, the one or other luxury article, and were left alone by anybody else. This had worked out brilliantly until it turned out that Tina, and in hindsight, it was surprising that only Tina, had been knocked up by the bastards. It hadn’t been a normal situation, so no one blamed her that she had simply ignored the issue until it was too late, but then was when the drama started. One could imagine what had gone down when they had to drag the big man to the infirmary to calm a hysterical woman. She went through a lot there, from not wanting the baby to not wanting to raise the baby alone to not wanting to raise the baby in the depressing as shit Sanctuary and back to not wanting the baby. At least Negan had refrained from offering to marry him, even he wasn’t that messed up. It was Simon of all people who suggested to get her to Regina’s place, it was nicer, cleaner somehow even had a little park, she could have her own room, and Gracie was there, too, who might help her ease into the involuntary mother role. It was basically giving the girl a free pass since she couldn’t really work anymore. From what Emma had heard all had been well so far, Tina had been even a little excited for the baby. So, what now?

“Why, what’s wrong with her?” Wade shrugged.

“She ain’t eating, ain’t sleeping, she basically just sits and stares at the wall,” Emma still was confused.

“So why aren’t you bringing her here to see the doc?”

“Well, since she doesn’t want to be touched and you insisted that we better be treating her good Regina decided to be especially dickish about it and make her your problem,” he answered with a straight face. Well fuck. She could see what Regina just did there.

“Sounds like something I would do, I’m almost impressed,” she put her hand on her hips with a contemplating look at Arat. “Yeah, I get my stuff,” she said already walking away. When she came back she was a little proud of Arat that she had managed to round up the rest of the gang in super short time. Her little operation ran like a machinery.

“Aw, you're here to see me off?” Arat looked confused.

“You don’t want us to come with?” Emma threw her little in-case-of-emergency backpack in the back of the car and looked at her people.

“Nah, Wade's got it. You guys take a day or two off. You worked your asses off the past two months. But play nice with each other. I wanna hear no complains,” she got in the car and let the window down. “Oh, and Arat,” the girl came closer and leaned in the window. Emma now turned the volume of her voice down significantly. “Keep an eye on David. Give me something on him, anything,” Arat just nodded.

“What we suppose to tell Negan,” Gary asked after Wade had gotten in the car, too and already started the motor. Oh yeah, there’s that.

“That I love him and be back in a jiffy. And when Simon shows up tell him I eloped with Wade to Mexico,” Wade gave her a look, and she sniggered a bit.  “Okay, let’s do this. Chop, chop,” she said to him and they drove off.

Regina’s Outpost was the only one that wasn’t unholy amounts of hours away, so only short two of them she leaned in the door of Tina’s room and looked down on the girl. She sat cross-legged on her bed, the hands on the protruding, six-something-months baby belly and yep, stared on the wall. Wade description had been accurate. She had greasy hair, was pale, somehow skinny, and had dark rings under her eyes. Emma cleared her throat. Nothing. She wasn’t cut out for things like that, and it wouldn’t cause her much stomach ache to simply drag the girl to the car and to the doc, but maybe she should try something less aggressive here first. She just sighed and set on the end of the bed facing the girl.

“Okay, talk to me,” Tina looked up. That was a start. “Wade says you’re not eating. You gotta eat, sleep, preferably take a shower once in a while, you know that, right?” Tina just kept looking at her and then her eyes dropped on her belly. “And if you’re feeling sick you should see the doctor,” Emma was aware that she very well might dealing with depression here, and then she would be way over her head. “Can you at least tell me what’s wrong?” Emma could be patient on occasion. That wasn’t necessarily one of them. “Work with me here,” suddenly Tina’s eyes flicked back at her. They were wide and there was something in them Emma only could call horror.

“It’s dead,” she finally said.

“What’s dead?” and well that wasn’t the smartest question Emma ever asked, because come on, what could she mean?

“The baby’s dead,” Emma sighed. That shouldn’t be a surprise reveal as an explanation for Tina’s behavior, but she had not seen that coming. When you thought about it that assumption was probably one that crossed every expectant mother’s mind these days, or more precisely, what a dead baby would imply.

“It’s dead and it’s gonna kill me. It’s gonna eat me from the inside,” here we go. Tina started to cry a little. Emma looked at her with tight lips.

“What makes you say that?”

“It’s not moving. It’s not moving for three days,” yeah, no. The baby wasn’t dead. Why did Emma know that? Well, she had seen what happened when a baby died inside the mother. 6 maybe 7 months into this whole mess when she already had believed she had seen it all. And of course, it hadn’t eaten its way from the inside, but even though the military docs she had hung around at this time had gotten the fetus out, the poor mother hadn’t died easily from the infection, some sort of accelerated dying-turning process. She didn’t really want to see something like that again.

“It’s not dead,” Emma stated and only got stoic head shakes as a response.

“It is and I’m gonna die.”

“It isn’t.”

“It is,” okay, that was going nowhere. Tina seemed prepared to do this all day.

“Your baby’s alive. You gotta believe me on this one here,” Tina looked up, eyes big and wet and just the tiniest bit like she would start to believe her. “But you can’t stop taking care. You have to get a grip on yourself. Eat something, wash up a little, and then we get you to the doc. I promise it’ll be fine.”

“You don’t know that. And what does Carson know,” Emma sighed annoyed. Being an adult sucked big time right now.

“I can prove it, okay? Wade,” the guy stepped in immediately. “How far is the Hilltop? Four hours?”

“Three and a half when the traffic is light,” she gave him a mock glare. Now was not the time for jokes. She faced Tina again.

“The Hilltop has another doctor, okay? And the best part is, he’s an OB/GYN, something obviously no one here had bothered to tell you,” she gave Wade a little side-glance. At least he looked a bit apologetic. “Alright, that went on long enough,” she got up from the bed and looked out of the room. Somewhere back stood a woman with Gracie in her arms. Wow, that kid grew like weed.

“It’s Marcia, right?” she nodded. She wasn’t Gracie’s mother, the mother was dead, but took care of her. The baby was the first conceived and born in the Sanctuary and Negan was very adamant it had everything you could imagine. “Marcia here will help you wash up, then we get you in the car and to the Hilltop. It will be like a field trip. It can even be fun, and then you will see that everything is fine,” at least she hoped everything was fine. She had no idea what it meant when a baby wasn’t moving. They probably should have done that before, but Sanctuary Carson could provide prenatal care well enough, he just didn’t have an ultrasound scanner, which, come to think of it was weird since Hilltop Carson had one. Why didn’t they already take that thing away? Now was not the time to ponder about Negan’s micromanagement mishaps, though. She had to get the girl to Hilltop and be done with it.

Four and a half hours later they were welcomed by a bunch of dudes aggressively wielding their guns into their faces until they recognized who was sitting in the car and became very meek instead.

“Looks like we’re already here,” Wade stated cheerfully. Tina said in the back and tried to make herself a little smaller. Understandable. She probably wasn’t feeling exactly comfortable in the company of many men. “What happened there?” Wade asked when he pulled his car next to some of Simon’s trucks. He meant the remnants of some haphazardly piled up and now burned down fires, and something that looked like a car used in one of those truck shows a special type of people had loved to watch when the world had been intact.

“Simon happened,” Emma just said and got out of the car. So, this was the Hilltop. Was every place nicer than the Sanctuary? To be fair it wasn’t hard for a place to be nicer than the Sanctuary. There probably had been parts in post-nuke Hiroshima that were nicer than the Sanctuary. Emma walked up to an elderly woman.

“You,” she said. “Take me to your healer,” that got her a little confused look.

“And who are you?” wasn’t that obvious? Emma made a little head jerk to a couple of Saviors loitering by the trucks.

“Oh, I’m with them. Well, I don’t wanna brag, but technically they are with me,” she said casually, and the woman paled. What had she expected?

“Just point me in the direction. I’ll find him myself,” she said relatively friendly. The Hilltop had been rather loyal vassals, at least until recently, and the fact alone that Simon obviously had decided that there was no such thing as too many men and showed off big time was intimidation enough. The doc had been accommodated in a converted construction trailer by the looks of it and got up a bit alarmed when Emma simply barged in, Tina and Wade in tow.

“Hi,” Emma said cheerfully. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but I brought you a patient,” she pushed Tina in front of her and held her by her shoulders. She never noticed how small the girl was, she barely reached to her chin.

“I’m already with a patient,” the doc said. Yeah, Emma could see that. The guy seemed to sport all his limbs, no blood or other bodily fluids spilled out of him, he wasn’t choking or holding his chest. This didn’t look exactly like an emergency.

“Oh of course, we will wait outside,” Emma said and then kept standing there looking at the doc expectantly. He just was looking back. “I was being sarcastic.”

“You cannot just come in here when I’m in the middle of an examination,” was he being serious? The other Carson dared to talk like that as well, probably came with the territory of having a profession that was both, extremely rare and extremely fucking important. You didn’t just go and snuff the doc, no matter how irritating they were. Doesn’t mean you couldn’t insinuate that you would do it.

“Have you seen the guys with the guns on your front lawn?” the doc got tight-lipped. “Want me to bring some of them in here?” the patient made the decision for the doc, the smarter one. He removed the blood pressure gauge from his arm.

“It’s alright Harlan, I just come back later,” he said and hurried out of the trailer. Emma looked after him and turned back to the doctor with a serious face.

“Have you ever suggested to him, you know, to lay off the carbs maybe?” the doc just glared at her. Okay, hard to please audience. “Now that a spot opened up,” Emma gave Tina a little push. “This is Tina and I need you to do the whole spiel, whatever it is you have to do to tell her and me how she and the baby are,” he looked at Emma a little bit angrily but softened up when he turned to Tina. That was something, Emma guessed.

“And who are you?”

“I’m the father,” Emma deadpanned. Now the doc looked pissed again, and Wade chuckled. Emma made an impatient go-ahead gesture, and finally, he showed Tina over to sit down.

“Has my brother seen her?”

“Couple weeks back.”

“So, what seems to be the problem that you came all the way here with her?”

“Why don’t you ask her that,” she gave Tina a little encouraging nudge and something like a smile. Before he started the whole examination, he insisted that Wade would leave the room, but had no problem with Emma staying. She wasn’t exactly giving Tina moral support here, but she held back from saying I told you so, but patted her shoulder instead, when it turned out there was a strong heartbeat. Emma wasn’t interested in questions about Tina’s stress level and eating habits and looked around curiously. The trailer was kept meticulously clean, he even had patient records. She walked around a bit, shuffled some files back and forth with her fingers, read some names on said files. Now, Emma had the ability to put two and two together. And it didn’t need some advanced calculus to come up with who Margaret Rhee could be. She shot a look to the doc who was busy with Tina. It could still mean Maggie was dead. She had been sick, she could have kicked it, doctor or no doctor. Emma opened the file. And what a lying bunch of assholes. You didn’t just run around and make up the death of someone and rub it under other people’s noses in an attempt to make them feel guilty about it. How fucked up was that? Pregnant, huh? Well shit. She hadn’t only widowed her, she had orphaned some unborn kid as well. Emma closed the file, stepped a step back and sighed dramatically. What was she supposed to do with that information? Negan would want to know, but should he? He would just go and piss those people even more off than they already were. And by now he was well aware that Alexandria and the Hilltop buddied up, so no new insights on that matter. Emma didn’t even know if Maggie was still here. She could be in Alexandria again by now and if that was the case Negan would find her, eventually, anyway.

“How much longer will that take?” she asked the doc.

“Couple of minutes. I’m almost done,” Emma gnawed on her bottom lip a bit. Then she just waltzed out of the trailer.

“Wait with Tina at the car when she’s done,” she said to Wade who looked questioningly at her when she passed him. The place wasn’t exceptionally big, but it had enough spots to hide someone. If she would tell Simon that Maggie was still alive and probably here he would tear the place down in order to find her if she wouldn’t come out on her own. And what would happen next? He probably would drag her in front of Negan, and it could go in all kinds of directions from there. And why was she even debating this? Negan had to know.

“Where’s Simon?” she asked the first Savior she ran into and he pointed at the house. She ran into the building fast enough the men jumped and the one or another gun got aimed at her.

“Whoa, at ease boys,” she looked around. “Simon in there?” she nodded to a door. There was a 50:50 chance to nod to the wrong door here, but obviously, she was right. The decision if or if not she would barge in and ruin Simon’s show was taken away from her. Some guy with a beard, Gregory she presumed, came out of the room followed by a rather sober-looking Simon. She got the tiniest what-are-you-doing-here look from the man before he followed Gregory to the back of the foyer. Now Emma knew one thing, and that was how you read a room. The only guy in here who wasn’t a Savior and who had stood there rather relaxed considering he was basically smothered by them suddenly looked very alarmed, and a little bit pissed and disappointed, although he did a great job in hiding it. Then he made an unconscious mistake. His eyes flicked for a split second up the stairs, back at Gregory and finally, he landed on Emma who was openly eyeballing him. Emma looked up the stairs, too, and back at him. Oh hello, that was the face of someone who just realized that he had given his friend’s whereabouts away. Emma didn’t look back to see if he would follow her when she walked up the stair. Most likely not. There was so much repressed aggression, sexual frustration, and testosterone in the room that running after her would have basically been a cry for suicide by Savior. She stopped on the gallery and looked from left to the right along the narrow hallway. There were a lot of doors. All but one were closed. It wasn’t a surprise that none of Simon’s goons paid her any mind, but she had the full attention of the guy with the long hair who played nervously with his beard. She leaned a little bit to the left where the open door wasn’t like she wanted to go there, and he relaxed the tiniest bit. Gotcha. Emma turned right and slowly walked into the room. It was a bedroom with a canopy bed that was furnished in the whole civil war chic theme of the house. And it was empty. She was about to check under the bed because you just did that since people still were stupid enough to think to hide under beds was a great idea, when she heard a little creak from a door, most likely a closet. She didn’t waste much time to walk over and ripped the door open. It was surely not the first time Emma looked into the faces of people who hated her deeply and she was confident it wouldn’t be the last time, but Sasha and Maggie, after several seconds of adjusting to the situation and comprehending who was standing in front of them, displayed some truly impressive examples. Emma actually started to worry. She wasn’t armed, and they came in a set of two. They stared at each other for what felt like an hour but probably only were 15 seconds, when Emma suddenly realized that it wasn’t just hate in both their faces, on no, it was way more complex than that. Sure, there was hate, a lot of it, but also a mix of fear and disappointment, anger, despair, and pain, and bottomless, heartbreaking, unadulterated grief. Emma, for once in her life, felt something like shame. Her gaze dropped to the floor, she stepped a step back and closed the door. Well fuck, this just happened. When she walked to the window to look down she palmed her face and already got her composure back. Just in time, she could hear someone walking up the stairs and she didn’t need to hear him calling her to know it had to be Simon.

“What are you doing here?” he asked when he came into the room checking out the interior. She turned around.

“Being pissed off about the view. When I look out of our window I see concrete walls, a lot of dirty windows and a bunch of motorcycles,” she wanted to get out of this room, out of this house really, but Simon was nothing but perceptive when it came to her and she had to bring her A game in acting normal not to give away that she just decided on a whim to collude with the enemy. He looked at her amused.

“I am sorry, it was my fault. I didn’t phrase the question correctly. What are you doing here, at the Hilltop?” he had stopped in front of her and took one of her hands in his. Emma looked down on where he played a bit with her fingers, then back to his face. She loved it when he was in an affectionate mood, but seriously, now was not the time.

“Medical emergency,” she stated, and some vague worry appeared in Simons' face.

“You okay?”

“Not me, Tina.”

“The pregnant one?” Emma just nodded. “She okay?”

“Yeah, false alarm.”

“Good,” a little lewd smile appeared on Simon’s face and he leaned in for a kiss. A very thorough one. Okay, that was weirdly embarrassing and somehow an unappropriated thing to do in front of a freshly widowed woman, but it was also pretty hot. And what the hell was wrong with her? At least they just had to hear it, not to see it, too. “I mean not good,” he said when he pulled away. “Here was hoping you just came here because you missed me so much,” he grinned and went in for another kiss. Then he let her go rather abruptly. That was as disappointing as it was a relief. Finally, they could get out of here. Simon sat down on the bed. Seriously? This was like in one of those stupid British comedies her father had loved to watch. The only thing missing here was Sasha and Maggie tumbling out of that closet wrapped in a pile of coats saying oops.

“That Gregory is an insufferable sycophant,” Simon snorted. “He’s the kind of guy you just want to punch in the face, over and over again. A coward, too, and so obsequious I probably need a shower now. And one of the worst actors I’ve ever met. You should’ve seen him trying to pretend he didn’t know what went down on the Outpost. It was like he tried to act like someone who is bad at acting. And he’s hiding something else. Considering he does it badly, too, I am not sure he even knows what,” oh, Emma had the one or another idea in that department. Also, it was probably not a good idea to let Simon elaborate his theories in earshot of Maggie and Sasha. “He just showed me a closet full of Scotch. Conspiratorially. That was mostly weird. Who does that?” that was a good clue to get him off topic here.

“You got me a bottle?” Simon rubbed his mustache while he looked up to her.

“What do you think?” Emma just shrugged a bit. He better. “What kind of man would I be when I wouldn’t enable my girl’s bad decisions,” he got up. Finally, they could get out of here? He started to move towards the door. Almost there. “I took that painting, too. Just to piss him off,” he stopped in the doorframe and Emma had a hard time not to tear her hair. At least it couldn’t get worse than French kissing. “That’s probably his bedroom. Wanna taint the bed, piss him off a little bit more,” huh. It could get worse from here, who knew? That question was a good reason to walk away with a huff, though, because that was so something she would walk away from with a huff. He followed her with a chuckle. The guy with the hair and Gregory stood awkwardly close together. Gregory looked like he was ready to confess everything and blame it all on the other man. Judging by the fact that he completely ignored him when he passed him, Simon didn’t find his behavior suspicious at all. He probably thought the reason for Gregory nearly losing his shit was the wonderful impression he just made. Emma shot the other man a look over her shoulder when she walked out of the house. He looked back to the stairs surprised.

“Wait here,” Simon said and strolled away, just to return with a bottle and a little bag. Emma checked the label.

“Uh, good stuff,” she grinned. “What’s in the bag?”

“Some fruit, for the girl mostly,” she smiled a bit.

“One of these days I’m gonna tell Negan what a secret softie you are. Thank you.”

“Can’t really take credit for this one. At this point, I’m just pointing at things. And he does already know that since my first story when I’m shitfaced is obviously telling everyone I bawled my eyes out watching the Iron Giant,” he said dead serious.

“If you are not crying you are watching it wrong,” he had to smirk to this one. Emma looked over to the car where Wade and Tina were already waiting. “Gotta go, it’s getting late.”

“Yeah, about that. I don’t trust these people, don’t trust Rick either, not since the Outpost, and I am not really thrilled that you drive around alone with a pregnant girl and just Wade to throw on potential attackers. I mean come on. Wade? I’m halfway there to give you an escort here, but I know you won’t like that. So, could you please promise me at least you spend the night at the Outpost and don’t drive back in the dark?”

“Yes, dear.”

“I’m being serious here,” Emma rolled her eyes a bit.

“Yes, okay, I promise. Satisfied?” he shrugged.

“I will be if you take me up on my offer. It still stands,” she looked at him bemused, cleared her throat and turned around.

“Yeah, so I’m leaving. See you in a couple of days,” she waved him off and caught him grinning at her when she took one last look over her shoulder. Before she got in the car she looked over to the house and took a deep breath. What did she just do? This was the kind of shit that would sooner or later jump back at her and bite her in the ass. And she would have a hard time explaining this one away when this happened. She didn’t even really know for herself what the fuck she had thought there. She sighed and got in the car. She was pretty sure she saw the curtains move in the second window from the right on the first story, but it could very well only be her imagination.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A close call and a great escape

Emma brought Wade’s car to a stop more or less where she had planned it to park, albeit not without driving its flank along a concrete barricade first, very slowly and with a very loud screech. She looked at the spot where the side mirror supposed to be. Yeah, she maybe miscalculated that one a bit. Wade next to her was a little pale, a little sweaty and a lot relieved. She grinned at him.

“Little tight, but overall, not bad for my second time, right?” he stared at her in mild horror. Aw come on, she didn’t do too bad. Sure, she had a bad sidestroke so there had been a lot of swerving, but she hadn’t killed them, had she now?

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked with a spooked voice, she just shrugged. “How do you not constantly run into walls?” Emma scoffed but then got serious. Good question.

“That’s just a matter of practicing,” she stated and opened the door just to bang it against the barrier. Oh, right. After she climbed behind Wade out of the car she looked around. Home sweet home, dirt, industrial chic, dead on the fences, a smell you never would get used to, and two guards on the gate that weren’t supposed to be there. She left Wade to assess the damage to the car and walked over to where the two, Kathy and Alex, tried to pretend they hadn’t gawked at the show she had made driving the car like a complete idiot.

“You are not Laura and Brandon,” she said. “Explain.” Kathy opened her mouth but got stopped by Dwight before she could even bring out one word. He stepped around a corner ominously enough she wondered if he had stood there for hours to make an entrance like that.

“We expected you earlier,” he nearly snapped and, how Negan would say, ex-fucking-cuse me, how did you just talk to me?

“Why, missed me pretty boy?” she said flatly and a little challengingly. That classy, little provocation obviously made impact enough because his mouth snapped shut and he diverted his eyes.

“Where’s everybody?” she asked other than giving him any explanation why she arrived just now, in the middle of the afternoon, instead the early morning as advertised. It was none of his business. And it wasn’t like she had just spent her time scratching her balls at the Shephard Outpost. She and Regina, in a surprisingly civil manner she might add, had made the decision to relocate most of the heavy artillery stashed at the place to one of their safe houses halfway between the Satellite Outpost and the town hall, something Negan and Simon had been somehow procrastinated for a while now.

“The kid showed up this morning, hid in the delivery truck from the Hilltop and sprayed bullets all over the place. He killed two people, tried to kill Negan,” you didn’t need to be clairvoyant to know who this kid was.

“What did he do with him?” Emma asked slowly.

“Nothing. He showed him around, gave him a proper tour, and now he’s at Alexandria delivering him back to Rick,” yeah, Emma got nothing.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No,” Dwight said tersely, and Emma eyed him up and down.

“When was that?”

“This morning, around 8. They are gone since 11, so maybe for five hours,” Emma sighed. Something new every day. Nothing good could come out of this one. She shook her head and turned to the Sanctuary. Dwight had to hurry to follow her.

“Who’d he took, Arat and the boys?” the answer was yes, and this was no surprise. Negan practically assigned Saviors to the communities, because wasn’t it nice to see a familiar face now and then? This wasn’t the reason, though, in such a way you could get a hang of who was who in a group, who called the shots, who was trouble, who was an alley, subtle changes in the mood. When you read the people right you could prevent a lot of bullshit before it happened. The problem was that most of the Saviors here could read people about as accurate as a bucket of apples, so a lot of bullshit happened anyway.

It would be hours till Negan would be back which effectively meant she was in charge for now. And here she had been hoping she could have a nice and quiet afternoon. She made a beeline for her room, to shower and change clothes mostly.

“Who are the dead people?” 

“Caleb and Andrew,” aw hell, these Alexandrians had a way of ganking Simon’s guys, hadn’t they?

“Yeah, shit, Simon will be pissed. Something else?” she had stopped at her door with the hand on the handle. Dwight looked oddly flustered now.

“Mike got the iron,” he just said. Wow, Negan had been busy. Emma sighed annoyed. That wasn’t that much of a surprise, the way Amber and he were sneaking around behind Negan’s back. Emma shook her head. She wasn’t even sure who was the victim in this one. Had Carl seen that show? She could only imagine what kind of picture that would draw.

“Get him off everything for, I don’t know. How long does that shit hurt so much you can’t do anything? Two weeks?” Dwight made a half-committing shrug. He was the expert. “If someone needs something, I’m in my room,” she said. Now she had to find a way to sneak Mike some points without Negan noticing and she had to rearrange watch duty schedules. Just great.

An hour later she sat in an armchair with her feet on the bed, silently laughing a supervillain laugh because Simon would freak out big time if he could see her now (she even wore shoes) when she caught a large silhouette passing the open door.

“Joseph,” Emma said looking up from the aforementioned watch duty schedules. She patiently waited for heavy steps and heavier breathing to arrive. Fat Joey always looked scared, now he looked terrified, would she be Simon or Negan he would look downright panicky, so that was a plus, right? She gave him a look she hoped was friendly.

“How are things?” she asked and tilted her head a bit. Yeah, not friendly enough since he started sweating immediately.

“I was just,” he somehow pointed in some direction. “I’m just gonna get me a sandwich and then I, you know,” she had a hard time not to laugh. He really needed more sandwiches. That was for sure.

“Is that so? You know because I thought, and I could be wrong, that I just read the name Joseph D. related to watch duty on the western gate like now?” poor guy hadn’t been Fat Joey forever, she could at least don’t body shame him in official documents. She flipped the page in the little notebook to the current date. “And this I my handwriting, so I’ll go on a limb here and say it is probably correct?”

Now the guy deflated a little and was stuttering words in an attempt to explain. She looked at him quizzically for a while until it was clear that nothing would come out of this one.

“Relax, jeez. Were you out with Alex earlier? Did that trip wire thing we talked about?” he nodded eagerly. She wouldn’t trust most of the men and women here to carry a batch of eggs without blowing something up, but she had never seen someone handle explosives as steadyhanded and confident as Joey. Hand him a bunch of dynamite and he wasn’t the servile, obedient, and scared little asshole anymore that he was now. “Good, now go get your snack,” she made a dismissive head jerk. “I’m gonna check on you in 10, if you are not there I will eat that sandwich,” there was a little pause when he wasn’t moving. “Go!” and off he ran. Emma shook her head and threw the little notebook on the bed. She probably shouldn’t be so lax considering watch, but the western gate was basically blocked up with corpses, cars, and debris. It was the most unlikely choice for a perimeter breach. For a while, she browsed through the inventory list of the last drop from the Chem Plant Outpost that went back and forth between Simon and Gavin. It was always highly entertaining since Gavin was sending Simon little passive-aggressive notes and Simon gave him very openly aggressive replies in return. It wasn’t always called for, but she had to agree, two decimal places when it came to the weight of tomatoes was oddly detailed. Time to check on Joey as promised.

She sauntered along the corridors and out on the bike lot minding her own thoughts and turned around a corner. And. What. The. Fuck. Daryl saw her and got up from where he essentially had beaten in what looked like Fat Joey’s skull. If she ever had the chance she would ask an expert what kind of stupid evolutionary strategy freezing was, because that was what she did, and it wasn’t helpful. Not one bit. She didn’t even think something, not even something close in the vicinity of run and preserve, she just stood and stared. Daryl on the other hand charged without any hesitation. Her survival instinct kicked in the very last second, so instead of giving her head the same treatment he had given Joey’s he hit her left upper arm that she had lifted in a half-assed attempt to defend herself. There was a weird pop. It didn’t sound like the snap of a broken bone and judging by how her arm suddenly dropped like a dead weight bringing a whole new world of hot white pain down with it the asshole had just dislocated her shoulder. Her knees buckled, and she hit the ground hard, face first. Daryl was about to try to hit her a second time, his face a distorted feral grimace when he lost the metal rod due to all the blood. Well, irony is a bitch. That didn’t give her a break, though, because he simply switched his murder mode from battery to strangulation. It felt like Daryl was ripping out her windpipe with his fingers and Emma experiences cold, naked panic, maybe for the first time in her life. This was the closest she ever got to actually get killed and it looked like this would be it. Her tries to defend herself by aimlessly kicking in the air were fruitless of course and her body already was starting to get numb. She felt a weird calmness setting in, maybe this wasn’t so bad after all, maybe she just had to close her eyes, and everything would be okay. Daryl was ripped away from her so suddenly she forgot to breathe at last. The first breath felt like knives shoved down her throat and lungs, so did the next six or seven. She rolled to the side and coughed what felt like her lungs out. When she could see again she looked up to her savior. Turned out it wasn’t one with a big S. How the hell did he get in here? The guy from the Hilltop, the one with the long hair, currently had Daryl in some sort of police grip and tried to calm him down. Daryl tried to lash out at him, too. What the fuck had Dwight done to the man? Then it dawned Emma that she wasn’t off the hook here, was she now? There was no shame in screaming bloody murder, but she couldn’t produce more than an awkward croak and more coughs.

“Daryl, we gotta go,” the guy now pleaded and obviously something like recognition settled in in Daryl’s sleep deprived and half-starved brain, and he stopped writhing. While Emma started the slowest slow-crawl escape in the history of slow-crawl escapes he looked from her to hair guy to now Dead Joey and then he waltzed to the corpse and relieved it from his gun. Aw, he gotta be kidding her.

“Daryl,” the other guy urged again. And oh, please just leave, she would just lie here for a bit. Daryl came over. His hand shook seriously when he held the heavy gun in her face. It was Rick’s Colt Python. Irony was a bitch indeed.

“Daryl, you shoot they’ll hear us. We gotta leave,” that was some sound logic, listen to the man.

“It ain’t just about gettin’ by here,” he grunted at her. What was that now, a philosophical hour with Daryl Dixon? “It’s about gettin' it all,” he would’ve shot her here and now if the other man hadn’t come over, grabbed her from behind and put his elbow under her chin. Really? Again with the choking? When he put his other hand on the back of her head she was halfway there to believe he would break her neck, but he just applied pressure, a lot of it. She already felt light headed. At least the throbbing pain in her shoulder wasn’t an issue anymore when he let her fall down on the dirty concrete, out as a light.

~                           

She came to slowly and didn’t need to open her eyes to know that she was in the infirmary. She had spent 10 days in here basically tied to a bed, she would never forget the smell. For a while she just lay there, flat on her back, not knowing and frankly not caring what she was doing and how she had gotten here. Her body felt weird like it wasn’t really there, and something was happening on her left shoulder. Maybe she should check it out. She opened her eyes and turned her head to the left. The doc was somehow massaging around on her shoulder and rotated her arm back and forth for some reason. She watched him with mild interest. Suddenly there was a pop and the following pain was the equivalent to a bucket full of hot coffee poured over her head. She was wide awake in an instant. Daryl, Joey, the other guy, the bike lot, that she almost died, that Carson just reduced her dislocated shoulder. She jerked away from him and groaned in pain.

“Easy now,” Carson said, and helped her to get in a sitting position. He was shining a light in her eyes and checked her skull for wounds. “Did you got hit over the head?”

“No,” she said. That asshole had put her in a sleeper hold. How did he even know how to do this? The doc made her make a fist, stretch her arm, and rotate her shoulder a little. It hurt like a bitch, but he seemed pleased with what he saw. Emma looked around in the small room. The girl who assisted the doc was there, holding some sort of brace, probably waiting for her cue, and Ross and Dwight.

“Where the fuck have you been?” she snapped at them. Speaking hurt. She sounded like she was about to lose her voice forever. “Did he get away?” if one of them would have asked who she would have started waterboarding.

“Yeah, we sent people after him,” yeah, they better.

“Why aren’t you outside looking for him, too, huh?” she asked Dwight who just shrugged. Awesome. “And how did he get out?”

“Someone snuck him a key,” the doc lifted her arm uncomfortably high and it hurt so much Emma nearly threw up. He slipped the brace over her arm and shoulder and somehow strapped it tight around her chest, all while she glared at him like he had just murdered her whole family.

“He got out through the western gate,” she said, well, groaned-croaked.

“How do you know?” Seriously?

“Because I know for a fact that it was unguarded. Fat Joey dead?”

“Yeah,” shit, although it was no surprise. _And someone did what?!_ She stared at Dwight. Emma could make great conclusions from time to time, they just fell into her lap, sitting there grinning at her. She jumped up. The doctor protested a little, but despite her arm, she felt pretty good. Yeah girl, ride that sweet, sweet adrenaline high. Ross and Dwight followed her marching upstairs in a goose-step.

“Where are you going?”

“Counting the wives,” she ripped open the doors to Negan’s private chambers and got greeted by six hollow pairs of eyes. It should be seven. She grabbed the first one, Tanya.

“Where is Sherry?” she snapped at her.

“I don’t know,” she looked scared and a little alarmed to where Emma had grabbed her biceps. She let her go.

“Do you now?”

“I haven’t seen her in a while,” she had a hurried look in her eyes. She probably knew something, but Negan could sort out what. She wasn’t allowed to mess with the wives anyway. Tanya didn’t necessarily know that.

“Yeah, since when is she gone?” she crowded her a little. All the other girls just stared.

“I don’t know, maybe three, four hours?” Emma palmed her face and took a deep breath. Then she turned around to Dwight and Ross. She seized Dwight up. He looked tense, nervous, a little scared, this wasn’t automatically guilt, but still.

“Ross, escort D here to his room and make sure he doesn’t leave it, and then you get me Negan on the long range.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new plan and a show of loyalty

Technically Sherry and Daryl had gotten away on her watch so the heat she got a couple of hours later from Negan was somewhat justified. The man had dropped everything and had come back when he heard what happened. When he hated one thing then it was when his house wasn’t in order. His anger at her dissipated quickly after he got one good look on her and her abused neck and shoulder and he had turned on Dwight instead. It helped that Wade pointed out that they just got in and Arat mumbled that none of that would have happened when he hadn’t taken _everyone_ to Alexandria. She would make that girl employee of the month someday. Emma was aware she was only alive because the guy from the Hilltop let her live, probably some twisted thank you for not ratting Maggie and Sasha out, but they were even now, so she had absolutely no problems to spill the beans who helped Daryl get away. She couldn’t care less if Simon would tear the whole place apart or not. Daryl just tried to kill her, and he had gotten very goddamn close. The adrenaline had faded by then, though, and she had crashed spectacularly. She didn’t even know how she got in her room. The pain in her shoulder was rather dull, it was her neck and throat that gave her trouble. There was an awkward rhythmic thudding and she forced her eyes open just to blink and then another time. Yeah, he still was there.

“What are you doing in here?” she asked flatly, her voice scratchy. It felt like she had sandpaper in her throat. Negan looked up. He sat in her armchair with a brooding look on his face and let Lucille drop down on the floor one last time.

“Waiting for Simon,” he said tonelessly. She struggled a bit to get in an upright position and slowly swung her legs over the edge of the bed. One little shrug with her shoulder confirmed that she hadn’t miraculously healed overnight. She rubbed her eyes that oddly hurt and looked over to Negan.

“I’m not sugarcoating, you in here in the dark watching me sleep is solid creepy,” Negan had to scoff on that.

“The doc was worried you might have brain damage or some shit. Apparently getting your jugular squeezed and your windpipe crushed can cause all kinds of medicinal mumbo jumbo and the way you went out earlier had him worried,” well that sounded comforting. Also

“So, you play ICU nurse? Don’t get me wrong, but that didn’t sound like something you usually do,” he frowned at her and leaned forward.

“Is it so hard to believe that I maybe worry about you, too?”

“Yes,” she said sincerely, because yes, yes it was. Now he glared daggers at her, but then he made a dismissive sound and dropped back in the chair.

“Fine, I’m hiding. Satisfied? I turn my back for one second and this whole place goes to shit. The girls upstairs are pretending that they had no idea what Sherry was up to and I don’t believe one word of it, which gives me a really fucking hard time not to do something to them I’ll regret later. I just sent Dwight after that little backstabbing bitch what probably was a bad move since the asshole could very well be in cahoots with her and this was the last we ever have seen of them, and that would make me look like a fucking idiot, wouldn’t it? Your guys are giving me side glares because they are apparently convinced you nearly kicking it is my fault somehow. And on top of it, I have Simon breathing down my neck short of a hell of a tantrum, but I for some fucked up reason sent him to the Hilltop and am now wondering if I just signed the death warrants for all those sorry assholes. So ex-fucking-cuse me that I rather babysit your unconscious ass than to deal with all these fuckers on the other side of that door. At least you weren’t getting on my nerves. Until now, I might add. I couldn’t even rub it in that I didn’t kill Rick’s golden boy, he wasn’t even in Alexandria. Did someone tell you what the little bastard did? He has some balls showing up like that, gotta give him that,” Negan resumed to let Lucille drop down on the floor and Emma watched him for a while.

“You want me to offer you a hot beverage?”

“Get the fuck outta here,” he snorted, and Emma had to chuckle. Then she got serious.

“Rick wasn’t there, huh? Hell of a coincidence.”

“You think?” Emma sighed, got up and shuffled into her little bathroom She didn’t feel dizzy or nauseous or something, that was a plus but Jesus, Daryl did a number on her. Her neck was practically blue, you could see every single one of Daryl’s fingertips as even bluer contusions and her eyes looked like they were filled with blood, even the blind one.

“Well fuck,” she said. She was lucky he hadn’t crashed her larynx.

“Yeah, no shit,” she loved these high-quality conversations with Negan. Emma walked back to the bed and sat down again. No wonder her throat and neck hurt more than her shoulder. She looked down on her sweatpants and tucked her bottom lip.

“Who changed my clothes?” Negan looked confused for a second but couldn’t answer since the door was ripped open. It was Simon. His eyes fall on her neck and then her eyes first. He made a little, anguished sound to what he was seeing but turned to Negan in an instant who had gotten up slowly. There was suddenly a lot of tension in the room. Both seized each other up and Emma wasn’t quite sure what was happening here.

“Simon,” Negan said as an awkward greeting. Their little stare-off felt like it took forever. Suddenly something in Simon’s whole demeanor changed from guarded and tense to open and relaxed. He stepped forward one step, put his hand on his belt and had his smug grin on his face.

“Aw relax cupcake, I kept it in my pants. No one’s dead. They have to replace the one or another window, though. They probably need some time to clean up that mess, I tells ya. Guy’s name is Paul. Comes and goes. Gregory was very accommodating and assured me with a lot of words that he isn’t one of them, which I don’t necessarily believe. However, he wasn’t there, neither was Daryl. I gave Gregory my number if he should turn up, and I suggest we turn our attention to Alexandria next,” he said nearly cheerfully. Negan did relax. He had actually thought Simon had killed everyone, hadn’t he? It was no surprise that Daryl and the other guy, Paul obviously, hadn’t been there. She couldn’t tell for sure for Daryl, but the other man didn’t seem so stupid. No mentions of Sasha or Maggie. Here was hoping that they just disappeared into the wilderness and would never show up again. Cupcake?

“Good,” he said, and Simon raised an eyebrow to that. Negan managed to look a bit apologetic. “I mean not good. Yeah, sure. Off to Alexandria, we go. Let’s see if Daryl ran home like the pathetic animal he is. Hell, I’m driving over so often I could very well purchase a house there,” he looked at Emma. “You up to this? I want that bastard to look you in your creepy, red eyes when Simon tears him to shreds,” he made a little head tilt. “If he was stupid enough to go there at least. But I need to have a little chat with Ricky Dicky anyway. There are a helluva lot of coincidences going on indeed right now. Maybe these people need yet another reminder who the fuck they’re dealing with,” he stopped and looked over to Arat who stood on the doorway holding a bowl and a cup. She ignored Simon, gave Negan a little glance and then frowned at Emma

“You look great,” she said a little sarcastically and came in. Emma just huffed a bit.

“Thank you, this is my new summer look. What’s that?” Arat handed her the cup and put the bowl next to her on the bed.

“This is some very liquid porridge. Laura went a bit overboard with the honey, sorry. And this is from some worker downstairs, the woman who makes the ice cream. She thought that the cold might help with the,” Arat gestured around on her throat. “Anyway, easy to eat food, I guess. So, yeah,” Emma smirked at Arat and the girl looked a bit embarrassed. Then she turned around to walk out the door. Both Simon and Negan looked at her skeptical.

“What?” she nearly snapped at Negan who palmed his beard amused.

“Nothing, it’s cool. You girls just do your thing while we stand here like two complete assholes,” Simon grinned at him with a raised eyebrow. Arat now really shot him a glare when she passed him. She even huffed. Simon looked after her.

“What was that?” Negan scoffed.

“Don’t ask,” he grabbed Lucille from where she leaned against the armchair. “Two hours and we roll out. Meet you downstairs,” he said and walked out of the door, he even closed it behind him. Simon was sort of kneeling in front of her so fast she startled a little. He took the cup out of her hand, put it down and started to examine her gently but very, very thoroughly. He looked a lot worried and a little sad.

“Jesus, Em, this looks painful,” he mumbled when he lifted her chin to get a good look on the strangle marks. “Are you alright?” he asked her and studied her face. Emma shrugged and regretted it the second she did it. Yeah, she totally forgot the shoulder.

“Pretty much feel like I look, I guess,” she said.

“That’s not what I meant,” he looked at her expectantly. Emma rubbed the back of her neck. Even that hurt.

“Yeah, I’m fine I guess. I don’t know,” she sighed heavily. “It was pretty scary,” she finally admitted, and something in Simons face softened.

“Come here,” he said quietly and basically pulled her to his chest, carefully avoiding jostling her shoulder. Simon was solid, warm, and broad. And he was strong. It felt nice to melt a bit into his arms, to relax against his chest and pretend for a couple of minutes to be safe, that Simon might actually be able to protect her from the shit that went on outside these four walls. Simon pulled away cautiously and gave her a kiss on the temple.

“Alright,” he said. “You better eat that ice cream before it melts,” he smiled and sat next to her on the bed giving her a little encouraging look. She rolled her eyes a bit but grabbed the bowl anyway. And the ice cream flavor had to be razor blade. Emma started coughing and in a lack of alternatives, Simon started rubbing her back. “I swear I get my hands on that sub-level human I’m gonna pay it back to him twice as much and then some.”

“You say the most romantic things,” she sputtered between coughs and took another spoonful of ice into her mouth swallowing it very slowly and carefully this time. It didn’t hurt so much, the cold felt actually good. “He’s most likely not there, you know that right? He ain’t that stupid,” Simon sighed.

“I know, but a man can hope.”

~

More or less two hours later Emma stepped out to the parking lot and got a lot of wide-eyed looks.

“It’s the eyes, right? They look scary as shit,” she asked no one in particular with a cheerful undertone that was only half played. The doc had checked her out another time and had been pleased with the fact that there weren’t any swellings, and had basically given her his okay for this stupid road trip after he filled her up with the good stuff. So yeah, she was a bit high here. Emma was about to go to her truck when Gary somehow stepped in her way with the rest of them kind of piling up behind him. He looked like he had drawn the shortest straw. She turned to them with a question mark in her face.

“Yes?” she said after nothing happened and Gary cleared his throat. Brandon handed him a bundle and Emma looked at it with a frown.

“We’ve discussed it and you should take it. We know you don’t wanna carry a gun, good example for the workers and all, but after that bullshit, we think it’s better if you do,” Emma sighed. He had a point. If she would have a gun yesterday would have gone down way differently. She took the gun belt with the holster and pulled the sidearm out. And look at this, what a beauty.

“Did you guys picked it because it looks cute?” she asked with a smirk. It was a Kimber Pro with a pretty rosewood grip and a silver finish but despite her adorable looks a killer gun, reliable, accurate and easy to handle. She could work with that. “Fine, I’ll take it. Thank you, but no more little gestures. This is getting a bit weird. I’m not dead and I’m not planning on dying,” Simon looked over her shoulder and down on the gun.

“What’s that, early Christmas gift?”

“Yeah, because they love me so much,” Emma said with a little wink to her guys. Most of them looked a bit awkward now.

“Seriously?” Simon puffed up in mock offense. “Ice cream from the workers, Laura slaving away in the kitchen for breakfast, Arat playing steward, and now a brand-new gun? That’s some double standards here guys. I got shot a while back, and what did I get?”

“You got Emma,” Negan said in passing. He turned around. “Are we fucking doing this or what, chop, chop,” he ordered walking backward and that sent everyone moving to their respective vehicles. Simon looked down at Emma.

“You’re with me,” he said matter-of-factly and already walked away. Emma looked after him unimpressed.

“Am I now?”

“That’s an order by the way,” he said over his shoulder. Emma sauntered after him.

“So, this is it? This is how it’s gonna be from now on?” she asked him with a smirk when she climbed next to him. He just smiled ironically when he started the car.

“Oh yeah, prepare for a lot more of that. Just you and me, and hovering. Lots and lots of hovering.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negan gives an anatomy lesson. Emma gives advice.

It was official. Being at Alexandria was the worst. When they had arrived (their biggest convoy yet, at least 75 people, even more than in the fateful night two of the Alexandrians had gotten to know Lucille on a rather intimate level) they came just in time to ran into Rick and some others about to head out again. Emma didn’t believe one word that they were planning on going scavenging, but she had to admit the surprised reactions to Daryl’s glorious escape seemed legit. They indeed heard the first of it. Didn’t mean that they weren’t planning something. Well, of course, Negan delayed the field trip into the future and got a strained thank you out of Rick for bringing Carl back alive the other day and with all his limbs intact. Then Simon got his chance to annoy the shit out of the people by applying the buddy system for the most thorough and large-scaled home invasion of all times. He wandered off with Rick jovially putting his arm on the guy's shoulders like they were old friends or something. Rick would have a long day today. Simon in his own way was worse than Negan since you could never tell if he was seriously joking and just messing with you or if you were already one wrong look away from him sending your ass straight to whatever afterlife your religion was promising you. Meanwhile, Negan had grabbed the kid and his little sister and made himself comfortable on Rick’s porch. Emma had been more than surprised that Judith was still alive. She had legitimately thought the child was dead, considering she had stumbled across a blood-soaked booster seat when she left the prison. That had been one and a half hours ago. Not the prison, of course, the making himself comfortable on the porch thing. He sat currently with Judith, who was fast asleep, on a garden chair super relaxed. Poor Olivia had to sit on a chair that had been previously occupied by Emma, looking about as tense as the other day when her life had been in the hands of Rick and his talent in retrieving missing firearms. Emma loitered on the porch, healthy shoulder leaning against a pillar, and was glaring occasionally at some bystanding Alexandrians who were all kinds of anxious about Negan handling the little girl. That was Negan’s intention, making them nervous, and so Emma couldn’t exactly yell over to them to fucking relax, even he wouldn’t hurt a toddler, hell, he was genuinely adoring little kids, but these looks were getting on her nerves. She eyed over to a plain looking girl about her age with a messy ponytail who was moving nervously from one side to the other like she couldn’t decide if she would do something, whatever that meant, or not. Time to make her back off.

“Arat?” Emma asked in a casual tone, voice barely risen, but loud enough that she could be heard. Arat turned around. “I was wondering, how is that thing called when you knock someone out and then place their open mouths on the curb and then you just kick their skull until all the teeth are broken?” Arat, to give her credit, wasn’t missing a beat.

“Curbing,” she stated all businesslike. Emma made an approving sound.

“Huh, that easy. Ever done this?” she asked and locked eye with ponytail girl who flinched a little on the sudden attention, but still wasn’t bolting. Dull cow. “Wanna try it out?” that sent her running and somewhere behind her Negan chuckled. Yeah, what could she say, elegant threats like that were what passed as friendly banter in the Sanctuary.

She was the last line of defense in a lot of lines of defenses since the house was practically surrounded by Saviors, not all of them solely there for Negan’s protection, so the very white, youngish man with what looked like half a bottle of Scotch who was walking up to them had to pass a lot of suspicious looking men and women until finally, Arat stopped him. She had a short conversation with the guy, he obviously wanted a fag and a chat with the big man and Emma shared a quick look with him. He made a go-ahead gesture.

“Arat, don’t be a dick, let the man pass,” Emma said and Arat stepped aside, not without glaring at him first. When he tried to pass her, awkwardly showing the bottle and with a little weird smile that looked super forced, Emma stopped him with a hand on that buttoned-down chest.

“You don’t happen to have a weapon with you except that killer looks, frat boy?” she asked slyly, and he stared at her shocked. What followed was him not knowing how to react and all that fake bravado threatening to crumble into itself while his eyes fell onto her neck and back at her face and finally onto his shoes. “I’m just messing with you,” she said with an eye-roll and let him go. Looking after him she wondered if he had bought those slippers in a dozen at Macy’s.

What happened next was so painful to watch Emma had to go away. That asshamstery of the highest order wouldn’t work on Negan, for starters, and boy this guy had some nerve doing this while all his own people very clearly couldn’t believe what they were seeing here. Negan was playing along. He loved that kind of shit, gave him a chance to make a show, and he never let an opportunity go to set people up against each other. Since the search for Daryl clearly was slowly coming to an end a lot of people had gathered around where Negan was now playing pool with Spencer (this had to be his name, hasn’t it), because why the hell not. She wasn’t paying much attention to that whole train wreck about to happen, especially when a rather pissed off looking Gary and Laura showed up giving her a short report on how Simon was about to wrap things up, and they found no Daryl. Surprise. At least they had broken a lot of crockery. There was a weird tearing sound, a grunt, Negan yelling a nearly cheerful Oh! and then some screams. Emma twirled around. Negan and Spencer stood with the back to them and Emma first couldn’t tell what the hell warranted screams until her eyes fell down on the growing puddle of blood in front of Spencer’s feet. Well, shit.

“Oh, how embarrassing. There they are. They were inside you the whole time. You did have guts,” yeah, Emma could tell. One day, she thought when she walked over to survey the bloodbath, one day without somebody getting violently killed. Was that too much to ask? And did Negan just made the worst practical joke slash pun ever? She gave Negan the tiniest reprimanding look and he just grinned a boyish grin. Then he was already moving forward, obviously in an attempt to win the asshole of the century award. At least the poor fucker had died fast. There was still a surprised expression on his face, although none of them should be surprised to die by the rate the things here were going. She used her right hand to pull her knife pedestrianly out of its sheath on her left side to dead-death the guy when a shot went off. She nearly fell with shock into all the blood, but she could break the fall by grabbing the pool table, with the left arm, and Jesus that hurt. Almost enough to make her forget that there had been a shot. Almost. Someone had shot at Negan but judging by the fact that he was currently fuming with anger and nearly lost his shit there for a second, he wasn’t hurt.

“You shot Lucille!” oh boy. The girl who was already restrained by Arat just got them all in very deep trouble. “Arat, move that knife up out on that girl’s face. Lucille’s beautiful, smooth surface is never gonna be the same, so why should yours,” Negan had trouble to keep it together. This bat was some kind of shrine for his dead wife, at least that was what she had gathered from all the bits and pieces she had been able to pull out of Simon, and he worshipped that thing in all sorts of excessive, one-on-one therapy worthy kind of ways. Emma was still somewhat crouching with one hand on the table. She wanted to get up, swatting Laura’s helpful hand away, when her eyes fell on the bullet shell.

“How many times do I have to tell you people shit like that won’t fly. Haven’t you learned nothing from Daryl? Now another one of you has to die, maybe that’ll do it. Arat, kill someone,” she was on her feet in a heartbeat and already aimed at poor Olivia.

“Wait,” Emma stopped her right in time. Negan looked like he was entertaining the idea of venting it on her head a bit instead. She held the shell in his face.

“What’s that?” he asked flatly and took it. Yeah, he had no idea what he was looking at, hadn’t he?

“That’s a reused casing. One of them made that bullet, from the scratch,” something lighter appeared on Negan’s face.

“Huh,” he turned to the woman that Brandon had pulled up. “You may be stupid darlin’, but you showed some real ingenuity here. Now tell me, who made this?”

“It was me,” she was lying. You didn’t need to be especially insightful for that one.

“You see, now I just think you are lying. And you are lying to me now? Such a shame. Arat’s gonna have to cut up that pretty face after all. One more try,” Arat did what she was told and put the knife back on the woman (Rosita, ha, her name was Rosita. Emma remembered Dwight calling her that). She didn’t cut, though, since everything came a bit to halt when, finally, Simon with Rick arrived on the scene. Simon still had his hand on Rick’s shoulder, but this time the grip was everything but friendly, Rick would probably bruise. One little hand gesture by Negan and Simon let him go, even gave him a little push. Rick stared at the body in shock. Simon looked more confused, but it said a lot about the guy that it wasn’t Rosita crowded by Arat, the gun Gary casually handed him or the dead guy with his intestines spilled on the pavement that gave him trouble, no it seemed he wondered mostly about the pool table in the middle of the street.

“Rick, look everybody it’s Rick,” Negan now took the man and explained his reasoning behind gutting Spencer like it made perfect sense while Simon weighed the bullet shell in his hand that Negan had flipped back to Emma. Of course, he looked like he already figured out the whole scene.

“She shot Lucille,” Emma said meaningfully and Simon smacked his lips. He looked down on the dead guy.

“Before or after that mess?”

“After.”

“Then let’s hope for the good people of Alexandria he wasn’t the one making that bullet,” he said with a little grin.

“Just go,” Rick now pressed out strained and Negan grinned jovially.

“Sure thing, Rick, right after I find the guy or gal that made this bullet,” he turned back to Rosita who was now effectively pressing her face into Arat’s blade cutting it open a bit.

“It was me,” she pressed out again through gritted teeth. Although he was obviously impressed by Rosita’s badassery, he looked at her kind of sad now.

“Very well, darlin’, have it your way,” he turned around and looked over to Emma and Simon with a serious face like he was in deep thought or something. “It’s a shame we didn’t find Daryl, we really needed you all to see him die. Doesn’t mean Emma over there shouldn’t be allowed to blow it off a little, for what your friend did to her the other day, with a little show and tell what’s to come for him. Take a pick, Princess. Put that brand-new gun on one of these people. Blow off their face, front and center, unless one of them speaks up who’s the magic bulletman,” contrary to probably all other Saviors here Emma wasn’t as trigger happy as one would have thought and usually didn’t kill people just like that. With a few exceptions (for example Chad) everyone she had killed had given her a reason one way or another. None of the people here had it coming despite Rosita maybe who was ironically the only one off the menu. So, it wasn’t exactly hesitating, more stalling, when she opened the holster and pulled the gun out rather slowly. She still was hurt, no need to rush and pull a muscle, right? She gave them all the time in the world to speak up, and of course, no one did. Bloody idiots. After a short contemplation to aim at the kid, because he had gunned down two of Simon’s the other day, after all, she put her gun on a skinny, blond guy standing next to the one with the brown curls. One of the days she would learn their names.

“Em’s my best shot, but you know that Rick, don’t you? So, rest assured, she won’t miss unlike someone I know,” Negan was stalling, too. That wasn’t uber weird considering that he had calmed down enough to realize that she could be aiming at the bullet maker right now, and that would be a shame.

“It was me,” Pony Tail jumped basically in her way. Emma let the gun sink a little bit, looked in the girls face and then she sighed.

“I lie, I don’t get lied to,” she said flatly, aimed again, cocked the gun.

“No, it wasn’t,” that sounded more like it, finally. “It was me. It was only me,” Emma put the gun away and stepped aside so Negan could stroll over to Mullet of all people. By the looks of it, it was surprising he hadn’t a code brown already. She had never seen somebody looking so scared. She shared a look with Gary who somehow mouthed Wow! to her which made her chuckle.

“It required one spent casing, one four-holed turret reloader, powder, one funnel for powder,” yeah it was him alright.

“Shut up,” even Negan looked irritated. There was a moment when he was looking into that crying face with a little frown. “I’m gonna relieving you of your bullet maker, Rick. Let’s move out,” with that he just walked away shouldering Lucille like nothing strange had happened. Laura grabbed Mullet and dragged him after Negan which didn’t really sit well with Rosita who started to beg that they should take her instead. Simon shook his head.

“So much drama. You guys had way more fun than I,” he said sarcastically, then he waltzed over to Rick, all friendly gesture again, and led the clearly agitated man into the direction of the gate as well, probably with the intention to threat the holy hell out of him, always with a smile, elaborating what would happen if Daryl showed up here. Emma still stood in the center of a whole bunch of shocked Alexandrians. Simon had a point. That had been a lot of drama for one day. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Spencer moving, reanimating already, and she quickly finished what she had started not even ten minutes ago. When she turned around again she cleaned her knife on a writhing Rosita’s shirt, she was the villain in that people’s story after all and put it back in the sheath. Then she signaled Brandon to let the woman go. He shoved her hard enough that she fell which earned him a little scolding look. Emma looked down on her and then in the faces of the bystanders and down on her again.

“What was it you think would happen here, hm?” she asked in a tone like she was talking about the weather. “Was that some attempt of glorious, revenge-soaked suicide? You kill him and then what? Negan’s dead, you die, and everything will be hunky-dory? No biggie, let’s be friends? Do you even get an idea how red we would have painted that place when you actually would have been successful with your little assassination plan? And the best would have been you would have seen it all because you would be the one we would’ve let live to tell the tale. I mean you failed spectacularly, but nonetheless, you nearly got Olivia killed for trying. You nearly got the other guy killed for not speaking up. Because that is what happened, what will always happen. You screw up, somebody else dies, and these deaths are on you while you keep breathing. Like it worked out for Daryl with Ginger. So, when you put that pretty head of yours to sleep tonight you better use the time to think about that, really think about that, and decide if a little fiery vengeance for one or two or three dead friends is worth to get all of them dead,” Emma stared down on her for a while longer, then she shrugged to Arat and Brandon. “Alright. We’re done here, time to go,” they left the good people of Alexandria standing in the street.

“Abraham,” Rosita said after her. Emma slowed down a bit and looked back. “His name was Abraham,” drama wasn’t cutting it, was it? This just turned into some next level Time Life bullshit it was bordering on ridiculous.

“I really don’t care,” Emma said cheerfully and walked away.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A royal audience

“I can’t take him anymore. You need to assign someone else to him,” Laura hadn’t even knocked. That was kind of rude. Emma turned her head to her little warily. The girl looked stressed. Although she played the pronoun game here Emma knew who she meant.

“What’s he doing that makes you forget your manners?” she asked flatly. Simon chuckled from where he was sitting on the table writing that weird log book of his. “You could have run in all kinds of bizarre involving Simon and me,” Laura blushed. Aw, how cute was that? Emma got a bit more upright in her armchair. She had been basically grounded by the authority of her own guys the last two days. She wasn’t sure if she was proud or annoyed that they obviously could decide things without running to her first, after all. Looked like the vacation was over.

“He’s just driving me crazy,” Laura said a little pouty now with a meek voice. She probably realized that that wasn’t exactly something you bring to your boss, especially when your boss’s boss was in the room as well, and that she should have kept the bitching to Arat or Josh.

“Mr. Porter,” Emma didn’t believe for one second that guy had three Ph.D. (because who had that?) and as long as he didn’t show her some diplomas she would refuse to call him doctor. Seriously, what was with that making up titles in the apocalypse? She wasn’t calling herself Admiral or Stormaggedon, Beast of the Bottomless Pit. “Is Negan’s pet project and he instructed me to make sure he has everything he needs. Well, I sit in that armchair, aren’t I, which puts me in the position to delegate and since you seem to have taken a shine to the man, giving him affectionate nicknames and all, I delegated it to you and I have no intentions to change my decision now,” she could see Laura yielding to that words. Simon was watching the whole thing unfold with interest, probably more exciting than sterile one-liners summarizing the events of the past week. “That’s easy earned points, you are actually the lucky one here. From what I heard he lives in Negan’s ass by now, so how annoying can he be? Just listen to him talking funny, show him around and bring him some snacks. In a couple of days, when he’s familiar with the place, you can back off and go back playing drinking games with the likes of Dwight in the middle of the day,” yeah, she knew about that. “Speaking of Dwight, any news?” Laura just shook her head. “That’s unfortunate. You can close the door on your way out,” that sent the girl running with her tail between her legs. Simon clicked his tongue.

“That was uncharacteristically stern. Where was the friendly pat on the back, the jovial joke?” Emma stared at him with a thoughtful face.

“I just implied our sex life’s bizarre. I thought that was a joke, don’t you?”

“Fair enough,” Simon said with a shrug and went back to his journal. He looked up again. “What’s the affectionate nickname?”

“Haircut,” Emma said curtly, and Simon scoffed.

“Well, that’s not very imaginative, but somehow fitting,” they sat awhile in amicable silence only disturbed by the scratching of Simon’s scribbly handwriting.

“You think he’ll come back?” Simon looked up again.

“Who? Dwight?”

“Yeah,” Simon dropped his pen down and leaned back.

“I have no idea. To be honest, I barely know the guy,” Emma frowned at that.

“How could you just barely know him. He’s here like forever. You must know him for how long? Nearly three years? And this isn’t like this is a huge place. We basically live on top of each other. I’m here for seven months and I know more about Gary’s dental hygiene routine than I care to know, and I didn’t ask for any it,” Simon gave her a lopsided smile.

“Then by all means, since you are the expert, tell me what you think?”

“I think he’ll come back sooner or later, with or without Sherry, because I don’t think he has anything to do with her splitting and she just kicked him in the nuts with a battering ram.”

“That’s a very sophisticated in-depth analysis of the situation, and well put,” he said seriously.

“Shut up,” there was a loud knock. “Go away!” Emma just yelled. Negan ripped the door open and glared at her. Great.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know I need an appointment or some shit to talk to one of my subordinates,” Emma even managed a half-apologetic look to that.

“I thought you were Laura,” Negan wasn’t saying anything and just glared down on her for a second. Then he scoffed after a shrug to Simon.

“How are you in the diplomacy department?” Emma looked up at him confused. Did he just ask her that? Simon looked irritated, too. Diplomacy wasn’t exactly something the Saviors were pursuing. The word wasn’t even in their vocabulary.

“Great, haven’t you seen me brokering a peace treaty between Israel and Palestine just before the world went to shit? I was that close. It was all over the news.”

“You think you’re a fucking comedian, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I kind of do,” Negan just sighed annoyed and rolled his eyes.

“Gavin’s pissing and moaning about the Kingdom. Well, more than usual. Some shit about one guy trying to make trouble, trying to provoke us for some fucked up reason. Then something about a new guy that showed up. You can imagine that all my alarms go off when I hear something like that happening now with all the shit that went down recently. It’s a black fella, so not the infamous Paul we all like to meet or Daryl, but anyway. I don’t really believe in coincidences, and if the Hilltop and Alexandria are already screwing behind our back, why not invite the Kingdom to the party and make the orgy complete.”

“You really think that?” Simon asked with a frown.

“Two ways to find out. One would be knocking on their front door, see for ourselves what they hide behind those walls. But so far, the Kingdom hasn’t broken the deal, so showing up there full force would be a little going overboard. Where’s the fun in that? So, let’s good cop this thing first. That’s when you come into play,” he looked at Emma. “Have a little chat with King Douchebag. Find out if that asshole knows something. Get a hang on the troublemaker, some fucker named Richard, and sniff around the new guy. Maybe you even know him,” Simon was about to say something when Negan interrupted. “Put ‘em in their place, the Kingdom, and Gavin, he made some questionable threats that we don’t do unless they do them first. But be friendly,” Simon’s mouth fell shut. There went his reasoning that he could do this perfectly fine. He wasn’t shitting with the hovering part. There was a reason he was in that room right now tending to his diary instead of tending to the shitton of things he actually had to do. Emma chuckled a bit. “But not too friendly, don’t make them forget who they’re dealing with. They’ll have another drop tomorrow noon. Keno knows where, take him.”

“Alright. Another road trip? Why the hell not. Gary and Arat are getting antsy anyway,” she said gleefully. Negan looked at her with pursed lips.

“I’m wondering, do they have a thing?”

“Who? Arat and Gary?” Emma nearly laughed out loud. “No, believe me. Not in a million years. Arat and Wade on the other hand,” now Simon scoffed.

“Wade and everyone, really,” he mumbled and both Negan and Emma turned to him amused. Simon was mostly confused about the fact that the man was usually swarmed by chicks the moment he entered the Sanctuary and made no secret out of it that it somehow annoyed him.

“I don’t know what it is, but that man,” she said in a dreamy voice that got Negan to chuckle. “These cheekbones alone. And have you seen how that ass fills his practical cargo pants? So. Many. Pockets. There is just something about a man that knows where to put his tools,” now Simon slapped to pen down and looked at her with affectionate annoyance. “I’m just saying. Under different circumstances, I would totally go for that. I think he’s younger than you, too,” Simon tried to glare at her but the amused sparkle in his eyes betrayed him. Negan cleared his throat.

“Yeah, I don’t need to stay here and witness you two foreplaying. You know what to do,” he walked to the door. “Oh, one quick question. What’s your opinion on sending someone after Dwighty boy already, too soon?” he asked mostly Simon who pulled himself together to answer the question.

“I think he’ll be back, give it another day or two,” Simon gave Emma a pointed look. Always nice to see that he took her half-assed attempts to make sense out of the bullshit that went down here seriously. Negan scoffed into the air in front of him.

“Let’s hope you’re right. I should’ve let him stew a while longer in that dark cell. Anyway, as you were, kids,” he said and walked out. They both looked after him. He had left the door open.

“You think a lot about Wade’s cargo pants?” Simon asked casually, and Emma had to huff a laugh. He wasn’t jealous, not really, but no need to thrash the subject until he actually got mad.

“Like I spend my time pondering about Wade’s assets beyond the questions how he is with a gun and if I could outrun him when we’re attacked by roamers,” she said with a grin. “The answer is yes, I think I can, in case you’re wondering,” Simon just shook his head to that and picked up his pen.

“What you even writing?” she asked a little exasperated, but he ignored her. “And who the fuck is Keno?”

~

Turned out she had seen and even interacted with Keno many times before but hadn’t shared all but four words with him that hadn’t been orders from her side. Maybe she should take Simon as a shining example and learn the names of at least all the Saviors in the Sanctuary, although the average foot soldier had a three months shelf life until they wound up dead, so the turnover rate was enormous. He seemed a decent guy, if not a little simple, something that could be said about most of them, to be fair. They had been early to the party, and Emma was currently sitting in the back of her pick up eating an apple that was mealy and tasted like nothing. Before the end of the world, Emma had quite the hipster palate, soy latte, avocados, gluten-free bread and whatnot, but food was scarce now so she ate it anyway, but she was not enjoying it. She hadn’t enjoyed a meal in years. That her throat still hurt wasn’t helping. Her core guys had fanned out, Gary, Arat, Brandon, and Laura (to give the girl a break from the self-declared chief engineer of the Sanctuary) and did a great job in pretending to be alert. Emma was mostly working on her tan. The only one actually paying attention was Gary who was eyeballing the surroundings like a meerkat on steroids. Gavin and his guys showed up first. Emma jumped from the bed of the truck and strolled over. Gavin didn’t look happy to see her, but on the other hand, the guy usually looked like he just had to swallow a particular disgusting medicine. He surveyed her bruised throat and the red in her eyes and nodded curtly in sympathy before he went back to his business bitch face. Her eyes fell on Jared, who had a wooden stick with him for some reason, and she frowned.

“Didn’t Jared hear the siren call from the Satellite Outpost?” Emma asked Gavin who took an annoyed look back to the man that had started to inelegantly swing the stick around. He probably thought he looked cool.

“He was out scavenging when Simon rounded them up,” he said briefly.

“Well, lucky break for the guys there. Why’d you even bring him when he’s just trouble,” Gavin shrugged.

“To keep an eye on him.”

“Makes sense,” Gavin stepped closer and looked her in the eyes with a really severe expression.

“I will be honest. You here? I don’t like that,” and wasn’t that just heartbreaking.

“Honesty appreciated?”

“The situation is tense as it is. And you have a habit,” he paused. Emma looked at him expectantly. “To not take things seriously,” it wasn’t the first time someone said something like that to her, so her answer was looking at Gavin amused which probably just proved his point. She got a little sterner.

“Alright, from what I gathered you already gave one of them a last warning, am I right?” Gavin nodded. He was tense. “You don’t like it, I don’t like it, so lucky for both of us, Negan wants us to play nice with the Kingdom because they honored the deal so far. And that is what we gonna do. I am here to diffuse the tension because believe it or not, I am good in shit like that. And if that means I will crack a joke now and then, then I will crack a joke and you can shove it up your ass. And if you are worried I might steal your thunder and undermine your authority, which I really think is your problem here,” he looked at his feet at that, so she just hit oil. “Then I hope you are aware that whatever happens here when push comes to shove, I am calling the shots, not you, not your guys, and especially not Jared. And just so you know when I have to be I can be very, _very_ serious,” she had effectively forced him a couple of steps back during her speech and all of his guys had seen it. Good. “Understood?” he wasn’t answering. “I asked you something?” he nodded and suddenly she was all friendly again. Asshole. Emma was aware that especially in the Outposts people were gossiping about her and some still thought her main purpose in the Sanctuary was to sexual please Simon. Little outbursts like that at least helped to drive home that she meant business. If the alpha asshole showed her his belly the rest of the mongrels would follow. 

“Good,” she said cheerfully. “They’re late,” she added. She hadn’t even finished the sentence when a truck that looked like he was about to pick up Mexicans from a Home Depot rumbled down the street. After the King and his subjects got out she was wondering if the first joke of the day would be how many people does it take to deliver 12 cantaloupes. She and her extra manpower were eyed up suspiciously and no one said anything for about 30 seconds while they seized each other up. Gavin was giving her little side glares and finally, he lost his patience.

“You’re late,” he snapped.

“If you could indulge us your pardon, our path,” did he just say indulge us your pardon? Emma had to scoff.

“Wow, you guys are taking that king business very seriously,” she said.

“Don’t interrupt the King,” Emma made a bemused little head tilt and stared at the guy who said that to her. Was he carrying a battle ax? Gary who stood on her left felt entitled do puff up a little and she shot him a quick look.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Your Majesty. That is still the term to address a king, right?” she said with a little sarcastic undertone. She wasn’t quite making fun of Ezekiel yet, but boy she was close. “I have to say I dig the setup. You still look like that one paintball team from Marketing that doesn’t even make it to the first dead zone, but kudos for the effort,” now she was making fun of him. There was a little, confused look from the King to Gavin, she had that effect, but then the King addressed her.

“And who might you be?” even that sounded like he thought this was Shakespeare in the Park.

“Name’s Emma. Let’s say I’m from HQ, here to speak for Negan. You know, he has been told that things with the Kingdom and Gavin are a little tense for a while now, which makes Gavin and his boys here a little tense. Guns were drawn. Someone was hit with a stick,” she looked over to Jared. “Which actually makes sense now. Some heated words were exchanged, including murder threats,” she looked at the King like she had just asked a question totally aware that she hadn’t.

“I assure you I consider our arrangement with the greatest seriousness. We always fulfilled our obligations and mean to do so in the future,” Emma nodded to the words. Man, this would be a long conversation, wouldn’t it?

“Great. Let’s see if this is true,” she made a head jerk to Gavin who walked to the truck to check its cargo. Maybe she would put him aside later and have a word with him about the practicality of the drops. If he was so annoyed by Ezekiel and his wannabe knights letting them come over here with ten crates of watermelons one day and 12 single cantaloupes the other wasn’t exactly efficient management. They all stood around in awkward tension, at least the Kingdomers and Gavin’s guys were somewhat tense, and Emma shot Ezekiel a friendly smile.

“Emma,” Gavin said gravely. This didn’t sound good. She walked over and followed his gaze with her eyes. Yeah, she wasn’t a math buff, but she was pretty sure 11 was smaller than 12. Well, shit. So much for honoring the deal. She looked at Gavin. This would complicate things tenfold and then some. Threatening one of them to die after the next misstep had been uncalled for and Emma had no intention of killing somebody for one missing melon, but that didn’t mean she could just let this slide with a shrug. Besides, this seemed oddly stupid and out of character for the King since he so far always delivered on time what they had agreed on.

“Yeah, we need you to hand over your guns,” she said in a flat tone. What followed was what always happened when two opposing parties with guns at their disposal ran into a disagreement. She, Gavin, and Ezekiel were the only ones who didn’t draw their weapons. To give the King credit, he tried to calm down his people.

“We did not agree to that,” he said. Emma sighed.

“No, we didn’t,” she said rather laconic. She wasn’t exactly panicking here, she didn’t even stand in the line of fire. “Hand over the guns, or not, and pay the consequences,” she said matter-of-factly.

“We should give them over, Your Majesty, “ now one of his people suggested.   

“Aww, we should give ‘em over, Your Majesty,” Jared mocked. That fucking guy. “Or maybe I’ll just shove this down your throat,” he threatened the man with the staff in his hand.

“Give Morgan his stick back. Then you can have the guns. And all of us can go on with our day’s journey,” Emma sighed again. Dramatically. Loud. Into the sky. Generally asking the universe why everyone had to be a stubborn prick.

“This isn’t a negotiation, Ezekiel. It never was. Do you even understand what is happening here? Hand over the guns, now, or this will turn surprisingly gruesome for an astonishing amount of your people,” Emma was all threats now, no more Misses Friendly. This was getting out of control here. Jared’s stupid smug grin wasn’t making things better. At least her threat had made an impact. The black guy, Morgan, was the voice of reason.

“It’s fine. Give them your guns,” everyone complied, not without pissed side glances, but Emma would take what she got.

“Thank you,” she snapped. “Was that so hard?” one little sign with her hand and Arat and the others let down their guns, slowly followed by Gavin’s guys. “This is better, isn’t it? So, the reason we took your guns is you’re short,” she stated and looked at the King. He seemed irritated for a second, then he frowned.

“This can’t be,” he said, and Emma just shrugged.

“Look for yourself if you don’t believe me, ain’t exactly rocket science to count to 12,” he walked over.

“I counted them. I did,” he said more to himself and turned to her. She knew the look. He suddenly realized that he and his people were in deep shit. And Emma had to admit she believed him that he counted the melons. “This is impossible,” he murmured. Oh, it’s possible, open your eyes, Zeke. The explanation was standing right next to Morgan and the fat guy with the labrys.

“Well, but it obviously happened. Any explanation for that?” he looked from her to his people and back to her.

“We’ll get you twice the tribute in an hour,” he now tried to bargain, and Emma palmed her face.

“Look, I’m halfway there to agree to that, but I don’t believe that’ll solve the underlying problem here,” she stated and gave everyone in Ezekiel’s posse a little once-over. “One of you isn’t playing by the rules,” she said coldly. Ezekiel now looked offended. Come on man, don’t be delusional.

“I refuse to believe that,” Emma’s head snapped to him.

“Why, because you think you are some kind of king? Let’s face it, Zeke, one of these assholes you put in paintball body armor and let you address with Your Majesty is doing this, and he is doing it for a while now. So,” she turned around. “Who of you is Richard?” she asked nearly cheerful. There was a short moment of confused looks and then one of them stepped forward.

“You don’t happen to have anything to do with the mystery of the magically disappearing melon, do you?” that sounded like the worst Scooby Doo episode ever. He was practically oozing guilt, but he also stood there with his head up high. He had planned that little scheme, hadn’t he? Hell, he probably thought that they would kill him and then what? What was it with people thinking their death was in any way helping them, what they thought, greater good?

“I took it. I did all of it. Alone,” he said. The King next to her palmed his face and looked a mix of worry and disappointment. “Just do what you have to do,” he was shitting her, right? Did he really think she would just point-blank shoot him starting what, a war between the Kingdom and the Saviors? She wasn’t taking that bait. Jared was, though. He drew his gun and had it on Richards' head in a heartbeat, trigger-happy killbot.

“Put the gun down, Jared,” she ordered calmly. He disobeyed. That wasn’t a surprise.

“You should just let me do it,” he said to Gavin. Did Gavin let that asshole do whatever he wanted? Emma had the impression.

“Do what she said,” Gavin said without any hesitation. She had to give him that. Jared on the other hand.

“Why? Just because she’s Simon’s bitch doesn’t mean,” he stopped. Obviously, he had realized for himself what the hell he just said out loud. In front of everybody. He actually paled. Emma got very calm. The same expressionless mask she wore when Negan did one of his atrocities took residence on her face. Gavin tried himself in de-escalation.

“Jared you better chose your next words very, very wisely,” he said. Emma stepped closer to Jared, right in his comfort zone, and took the staff away very slowly.

“What you just said was just rude, Jared,” he tone was neutral, nearly light and stood in vast contrast to the cold look in her eyes. “And I just told the King I speak for Negan and now you embarrassed me in front of him,” his eyes flicked in her face and back on the ground. He was taller than her, but he sure looked smaller now. “So how do you say? Hm, Jared?”

“I’m sorry,” he said so fast it was nearly comical.

“I bet you are,” her gaze fell on the stick in her hand and back to Jared. “You know what that is? That’s called a Jo, which is just Japanese for staff. Traditional martial art weapon. Pretty cool, don’t you think?”

“Yeah?” he answered hesitantly.

“Made of hard, flexible wood. I think this is oak, but I can be mistaken. Doesn’t really matter, because at the end the only thing that matters is that it really, _really_ hurts to get beaten with it,” she paused for a second, then she rammed one end into one of Jared’s feet, kicked his legs away so he landed flat on his back with a loud thud and slammed the other end hard into his sternum. Not hard enough to break anything, but hard enough for him to double over and desperately trying to catch a breath. Emma looked down on him with an expression like this was just another day in the office.

“Gary, Brandon. Get him out of my sight. Teach him a lesson. Just legs and torso. The asshole doesn’t have to die for this,” Gary practically glowed on that. They dragged him behind Emma’s truck and the next 5 minutes or so all that could be heard were the grunts and thuds of someone getting a very thorough beating. Meanwhile, Emma had turned around, ignored Richard completely, leaned a bit on the staff and looked at Morgan.

“Is this yours?” she asked nonchalantly. He nodded.

“Can I have it back?” Emma looked at it.

“Do you call it a stick, too?”

“Sometimes,” Emma had to smile at that.

“Well, you shouldn’t. What are you practicing, Jojutso or Aikido?”

“Aikido,” he said. He seemed a little nervous, but people tend to be that after they just witnessed another person getting a beating out of the blue. Emma let the staff spin a bit in her hand than she pulled it up and held it in Morgan’s face. He took it after a second.

“Thank you,” Emma turned to Ezekiel.

Richard seemed unpleased with in what direction their meeting was heading, because he tried something, and the move wasn’t even half-bad. Maybe carrying a gun hadn’t been such a good idea after all. He grabbed her by the forearm, the left one, and pulled her with her back against his chest and suddenly she had her own gun pressed under her chin. The pain in her shoulder made her seeing white for a second. When she could see again she was face to face with the Savior’s version of a hit squad. She just hoped all of them kept in mind that what stood between Richard and them was still her.

“Richard, cease this. Let her go,” the King pleaded.

“Yeah Richard, listen to your sovereign,” she pressed out. He held her arm against her chest and it hurt.

“You should’ve just killed me,” Richard said. He didn’t sound heroic, or defiant or anything indicating stupid bravado. He sounded like he would start crying any second now. That set off all of Emma’s alarms. Shit, he really wanted to die. This could end really badly for her. She was considering the options she had to get out of this and came back blank except maybe kicking him, hoping to cause enough distraction to slip out of his grip. This plan probably had an 80 percent chance to get her killed. She didn’t like these odds. Morgan of all people came to the rescue. He hit Richards wrist with his staff. The other man let the gun drop immediately and Emma rammed her right elbow in his ribcage, so he let her go. Arat pulled her behind the safety of a lot of backs. The Saviors looked about ready to gun the whole entourage into kingdom come, pun intended. Morgan stood above Richard with the staff hovering over his face.

“It was all him. He set it all up. Not we. We understand,” Emma massaged her shoulder and rolled it a bit. That asshole had probably set back the healing process another week or two.

“Shut up,” she snapped at Morgan. Then she turned to Gavin. “A little less aggressive, please,” Gavin looked confused for a second then he looked at his gun and let it down a bit. The rest of the Saviors followed. The Kingdom still was just one wrong move away from a very one-sided version of the O.K. Corral, but it was a little less tense. “And here I was thinking we made a little progress today,” she glared at the King.

“We have. I assure you, this is not our way.”

“Cut the big talk, Renaissance Fair,” well, fuck. Now she had to teach them a lesson. This was so not how this was supposed to go down. “Funny to phrase it that way, because this so far isn’t our way either,” she palmed her face and glared over to Richard. Then she made a decision. She wouldn’t do the asshole the favor to die today.

“Time to show you how we do things. Bring him over here. Laura? Be a doll and get me my machete,” Gary and one of Gavin’ guys dragged Richard up. The Kingdomers made a move to intervene but got shoved away roughly. “Richard wants to die so badly, let’s kill him a little. Any of these assholes try something, kill someone, the whole way,” she looked down on Richard that Gary had pushed hard on his knees in front of her.

“Left or right?” she asked him and he just stared back at her confused. The King on the other hand clued in what was about to happen.

“Don’t do this. I’m begging you. We will punish him accordingly, but please. Don’t do this,” she scoffed.

“You will do shit, Ezekiel. So left it is,” Laura had handed her her machete and Emma gestured Gary to pull the man up again. They had done this often enough that everyone knew what to do which was probably not a good thing. Gary dragged Richard to one of Gavin’s trucks. He cut away the stupid arm brace and pulled up his sleeve. Richard, who obviously got the memo that she would just take one arm and not his life, started to struggle, but Gary and Brandon were stronger than him. They pressed the forearm on the bed of the truck. Meanwhile, Laura had pulled out two rags and two very long nails. Their field amputation emergency kit, if you wanted to put it that way. You never knew when you had to cut off somebody’s limbs. She was tying off Richard’s upper arm using the nail as some kind of lever to apply more pressure. Richard’s held back a pained scream.

“Focus on that pain. It’s worse than the real thing,” Emma said encouragingly. The asshole had pissed her off, but she was about to mutilate him, so no need to be extra cruel here. There were two ways to do it, but since it might be a while till Richard would get medical attention she went for a clean straight cut. Less skin to fold over, but higher chances for the veins and arteries to somehow collapse in themselves restraining the blood flow. Richard screamed so loud Emma vaguely started to worry they might attract a bunch of roamers. She was pretty sure he wasn’t even really feeling pain right now, but the sight of one’s forearm being chopped off with a machete was probably rather traumatizing. Laura put another tourniquet above the first and Emma cleaned her machete on Richards shirt like she had no care in the world. Being the professional sociopath she was expected to be so high up the ranks of the Saviors she strolled over to some very shell-shocked looking people with a little creepy smile on her face.

“So, I got rid of both our instigators, that’ll settle it, don’t you think? 13 melons, tomorrow the same time. No Richard, which shouldn’t be a problem, and no guns. In fact, you ever show up with guns again none of your people will leave here in one piece. The same goes for medieval melee weapons. And yes, a Jo is a medieval weapon. Do you understand?” the King looked over where her guys played first responders. Richard was in good hands, the King disagreed.

“We need to get him to the Kingdom. He needs a doctor,” no more fancy talking, and all it took was some next level knife play.

“He’ll be peachy. Now answer me. Do you understand?”

“That’s agreeable,” he said tersely.

“Agreeable? How about that’s very generous, thank you. Walk with me. Let’s leave the rest of the pajama party braiding their hair for a while,” she already was walking a couple of steps away and the King followed her hesitantly. She turned around and just looked at him for a couple of seconds that probably felt like hours for him since he was so itchy to get his guy and fucking out of here.

“There’s a guy, name’s Paul. He’s a bit of a drifter, wanders from one place to the next. Negan’s kind of interested to chat with him. Ever had the pleasure?” he was schooling his expressions very well, he played a king on a daily basis after all. He probably played a lot of community theatre back in the day, so Emma had a hard time telling if he was lying or not.

“I don’t know anyone with that name,” he stated.

“Really? No Paul at all? That’s odd. I know at least three. How about a guy named Daryl? Greasy looking redneck type, doesn’t smell too good either. He kind of slipped away from us, leaving me this nice parting gift,” she gestured at her throat. There was some kind of skepticism on Ezekiel’s face now which could mean either way he wasn’t sure what she meant, or he couldn’t believe Daryl did this.

“I don’t know a Daryl either. We haven’t met anyone new for a long time now,” she wasn’t sure, but she didn’t quite believe him on that one.

“Yeah? So where did Morgan come from all of the sudden?” the King wasn’t missing a beat. Great.

“He is with us for a very long time. I just recently let him in on the arrangement.”

“Huh, that’s nice. So how are your doctors? Any good? Because our doctor is pretty handy when it comes to stuff like losing limbs. He treated them many, many times,” two threats in one. Emma was almost proud of herself.

“We can tend to Richard just fine. But we need to hurry now,” he nearly urged her. Emma shrugged a little bored.

“You have a good deal with us, Zeke. Not everybody gets this kind of deal. None of you people had to die, we never set foot into the Kingdom, the offerings are reasonable and by the looks of it you can afford to give away some food,” she made a head jerk to the fat guy with the battle ax. “We even let you keep your weapons. Don’t screw that up now, Your Majesty, because where I come from, there are more. There are always more, and they are not as cute and cuddly as me. Load up the melons,” she ordered no one in particular, and wasn’t that just the kind of sentence she thought she would never say out loud? Her eyes never left Ezekiel. “And then get your guy and get out of here,” she didn’t have to say that twice. The fat guy and some woman pulled up Richard who had just been sitting on the ground, probably in some sort of shock and loaded him up. The whole thing was kind of supervised by her standing around with her arms crossed. She even waved them off. Gavin walked to her.

“That went well. Seriously enough for you,” she murmured, and he just palmed his face.

“So much for diffusing the tension,” Emma looked at him half amused. Better than killing someone. “So, what now?” Emma shrugged.

“You keep dealing with them. They act up, you make true on my promise. I’m taking Jared. Here’s hoping there is enough left for Simon,” with that she turned to her truck. “We’re moving out,” she said to Arat and everyone hurried away. Gary and Brandon made themselves not too comfortable in the bed of the truck, a very beaten up Jared between them, and the rest climbed in the passenger cabin. Emma eyed Keno up and down. She had totally forgotten that he was here.

“Does the King know anything?” Arat dragged her out of her thoughts.

“Hard to tell, maybe,” and this could be a problem. They had no idea how many people the Kingdom had, and more importantly, how many guns. She rubbed her face. Gavin had a point there, she didn’t exactly help to diffuse the tension.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I just took Morgan out of the equation. I can't stand that batshit crazy, walking ex machina.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tables turn, and not in the good way

Emma lay on the concrete floor and stared up to the concrete ceiling pondering when had been the concrete moment this whole thing here had turned into the last third of Jurassic Park, the novel, not the movie. The part when they realized that they had been running on auxiliary power the whole time and the fences had been down for hours. The part when the screaming had started.

Maybe when Negan had literally fired the doc and Simon had relieved the Hilltop from theirs. Maybe when their inside man had reported to them that Rick had just Oliver North’d the Trashpeople. Maybe when Sasha showed up in yet another attempt to go full on kamikaze. Maybe when Negan had decided it was a good idea to let Sasha do the talking. Or maybe when the fucking Kingdom and the Hilltop ex machina’d the day before Negan could kill Carl. She really should’ve ratted Maggie out. It had been a strange week. All that happened had been an accumulation of bad decisions by a lot of people, her included. All the Saviors could pat their backs. Getting their ass kicked by Rick and the gang had been a team effort. A goddamn tiger. Seriously? Who had a tiger? That was impractical as shit, not to mention dangerous. At least Emma was still able to discover bold new frontiers of what the hell. Mauled by a tiger hadn’t been on her bucket list, but here they were. Well, mauled was a bit of an exaggeration. It had basically been a love bite and friendly pull and a gentle push, but by the looks on Simon’s and Negan’s faces, before Negan had dragged the other man away, probably already writing her off, it hadn’t looked that way. Emma lifted her right arm and looked under the bandage. One fang had made some more serious damage and it had bled a lot, but otherwise, she was just badly bruised. The poor thing had been way over its head there with all the people running and yelling and all the gunfire. That had probably saved her life. The tiger had just played with her briefly when it decided to go after a moving target, Alex to be precise. Had ripped his throat out. Not a great thing to witness. She sighed and let the arm fall down on her stomach. A while back Simon had made the incredible observant discovery that she had a lot of scars and she had just replied that’s because she indeed usually got out of bullshit alive, but not before she got her ass thoroughly kicked. And this was exactly what had happened here. Before long she had been on the business end of Ezekiel’s sword because of course, he had a sword, who hadn’t killed her on the spot for some reason but dragged her away and into the custody of the fat guy. When the smoke had cleared after the Saviors made a run for the hills Emma had been the subject of an improvised court-martial that sentenced her to death a couple of times before Rick somehow put an end to it with declaring that they would need her for later. Maggie had been pissed. Same went for Pony Tail, Daryl and some girl that looked like she was 15. Carol had been a strong supporter of her being dead as well, but she was rather practical about it, which in its way was way scarier than Maggie’s fuming anger. Carol obviously just wanted to kill every Savior and be done with it. It wasn’t like Rick had let her live out of the goodness of his heart. Whatever his plans were, he needed her alive for now, but that didn’t mean that she would get out of this in the long run. He had patched her up, quick and dirty, and now she sat in a cell in a basement of an upscale prefab house. A fucking cell. And you think you know a guy. She heard steps but didn’t bother to check who came in.

“I brought you some food,” it was Michonne who sounded like she spoke through cotton. Emma looked up.

“Well shit. You look like you got a beating meant for a bigger man than you,” Emma said in a light tone and got in a sitting position. She put her arms on her knees. Michonne looked like shit, her whole face was swollen, and Emma wondered what she was doing delivering her food, she should lay down somewhere, or at least put some ice on it.

“You should take it. You will hike to the Hilltop later,” Michonne just said curtly. So, she would be transferred. Yeah, whatever. She got up easily and took the bread and the little bowl. Pretty risky from Michonne to be so close to her. By the looks of it, Emma wouldn’t need much to knock her out by just pulling her arms in and smash her into the bars a couple of times. Instead, she just sauntered to the back of the cell and made herself comfortable. Because she would knock Michonne out and then what? Easier to comply and be friendly. No need to be difficult.

“Anything else I can do for you?” she asked nonchalantly after the first bite of bread and a little slurp of soup. Some canned stuff that tasted like a lab experiment, but she wasn’t in any position to be picky. Michonne shuffled even closer and put her hands on the strut. Maybe Emma should just knock her out to make a point, teach her a lesson for future situations like that. Not all prisoners were as friendly as she.

“Did he do that?” Emma frowned confused. Did who do what? Before she could ask the question, the answer came to her and her mouth snapped shut. She had to chuckle.

“Seriously? You think Negan did that?” Emma scratched her scar unconsciously. “No that was the Governor. You remember that kid, was with Beth? Died in that Big Spot, that helicopter thing? Brad or Todd or something,” she said.

“Zach,” yeah, that sounded right.

“He had this game. What we did before. You wanna know what I did before all of this?” she looked at Michonne expectantly who wasn’t answering. “I wasn't in the Navy my whole life. No, I pursued a rather shady career most of it. The kind where I slept with married men and blackmailed them that I would expose them to their families. I stole pensions from helpless old little ladies calling them in the middle of the night pretending their poor grandchildren had been in an accident abroad and they have to transfer money immediately to cover medical bills. I scammed paychecks from hard working people for a living, and I was damn good at it. I even organized a fundraiser for a children’s hospital once and slipped off with the money. You would be surprised how generous people are when little bald, cancer kids with wide eyes are involved. Guess they never got that new MRI. A couple of times I resorted to armed robbery. Fast and easy money. I never was a good person. Negan didn’t _do_ anything to me. I ain’t gonna lie. That is all me. The person the other day, when you friend Spencer bit the dust, is the closest to the real me you ever saw me.”

“A murderer?” Michonne now asked and Emma scoffed.

“Yeah, right. I’m the murderer here. So, what does Rick want? You here to play good cop so he can be the bad cop? Is that a thing?” she lowered her voice a bit, pursed her lips in a dirty smile. “Between you and him? You two did the dirty, right? He was really upset when he thought you kicked it.”

“That’s enough,” of course Rick was here. No way in hell he let her slip away on her own. She could barely stand. Emma wondered whose idea this had been. Did they really think they could somehow coerce her to, she didn’t know, spill intel? Change sides? Not after all the mayhem _they_ had caused. He stepped to the bars and stared her down. Well, he tried. Emma wasn’t afraid to die per se, she just hadn’t a particular strong death wish. And after that interlude with Daryl she obviously only hoped that it would be quick and (best case scenario) surprising. So, when Rick pulled his colt she didn’t flinch. A headshot was the swift death she wanted.

“Get up,” he ordered. Although she rolled her eyes, because he was kind of unnecessarily rude, she got up and looked at him a little impatiently. “You probably wonder why you are still alive?” he asked her.

“Crossed my mind,” he opened the door and pulled out some handcuffs. Keep it classy Sheriff Deputy Grimes. He grabbed her right forearm without any reason but to hurt her and she didn’t give him the satisfaction to show that he managed that just fine. While he cuffed her, he glared into her eyes.

“I’m gonna offer the Saviors to surrender. You are going to help me with that,” he said. Emma frowned a bit.

“Am I now,” he took her by the upper arm, and half-shoved, half-dragged her up some stairs. If he would simply let her walk on her own this would go faster. With a rough push, he sent her out of the house onto the streets of Alexandria right in the middle of pissed off looking folks. She would start to call Pony Tail Angry Girl now. Not the first time Emma thought she looked kind of familiar. Rick grabbed her again and pulled her to a car. For some reason, Paul was waiting for her, and he gave Rick an impatient look.

“I am gonna tell the Saviors to give us Negan and surrender, and maybe, when Simon’s smart, he rather takes you, instead of being dead,” Rick sort of pressed out like this was vinegar on his tongue. Emma’s mouth opened and fell shut again. That was his play? Paul was nearly friendly, instead of just pulling and shoving her in the bed of the truck he almost helped. That mostly confused Emma. By all she gathered he was the biggest warmonger she ever met in real life. Why the friendly act?

“I thought we were walking,” she said casually when the truck started, and he looked over to her.

“Just the last couple of miles,” he murmured. The drive was dull, but the fresh air was kind of nice. She passed the time staring at Paul who wasn’t quite getting nervous, but it was enough that he couldn’t relax either. They finally stopped in the middle of nowhere and got out and into the woods. A whole bunch of people. Angry Girl was basically tailing her, and she had her gun pulled. Emma shot her an amused look over the shoulder. She was practically waiting for Emma to try something, hell, she might shoot her in the back even if she wouldn’t try something.

“What’s up with her?” she asked Paul who, Emma was half sure of that, was here to protect her from Angry Girls wrath. He looked over.

“Your people killed Tara’s girlfriend,” Emma shot her another look. Girlfriend, huh? Had to be the chick Dwight had Wilhelm Tell’d a while back.

“My condolences,” Emma said and the woman, Tara, gave her a bitchface to end all bitchfaces. “You know I know a girl whose boyfriend got killed by your people. Maybe you should meet, compare notes,” she said lightly. Paul glared at her. “Oh wait, I forgot. You people killed her, too, so that obviously ain’t happening,” Tara shoved her down on the ground. Emma got up on her knees a little laboriously and Tara was hovering over her with her gun aimed at her head. Emma sighed.

“She was a doctor. She never hurt anybody,” Tara pressed out and Emma smacked her lips.

“So this is how you justify it? Keep telling you that. You really are the good guys,” Rick had come back from his spot on the vanguard and pulled her up roughly.

“No more talking,” he barked at her and shoved her forward.

“Yessir,” she said sarcastically but kept silent nonetheless. This would be a very long couple of days. She didn’t know the plan here, if Rick wanted to bring the fight to the Sanctuary or if he wanted to wait till Negan would bring the fight to them, but either way, it would take some time to prepare everything. And Rick probably had an advantage over them here. The big the plus having the people and the means was, time and space didn’t play into the Saviors hand. The Chem Plant was 6 hours away, Armitage and Satellite Outpost close to 4, Regina’s still two. The safehouses and secret stashes were scattered all over the place, not all strategically clever. It would take days for Negan to organize a retaliation, and if he was smart he simultaneously prepared for an attack on the Sanctuary. This was the exact situation where she would come in handy, but she was without doubt officially pronounced dead by now, which meant that Negan would have to waste a significant amount of time to stop Simon from doing something stupid. He probably wasn’t a big help in coming up with a good plan either, which sucked since his plans usually were pretty clever.

The Hilltop looked like they were having some weird Civil War Mad Max LARP mashup. Emma couldn’t really get a good look since Rick was dragging her into the house and up some stairs before he threw her into a closet. The same closet Sasha and Maggie had been hiding not long ago.

“You know instead of all that shoving and pushing you can just say something like this way, sit down,” she said to him with a grin. He just slammed the door shut and locked it. She probably could kick it in if she really wanted to, it was some 19th-century wooden door, how hard could it be, but where would be the point in that? This thing here was no doubt about it some payback for Daryl’s situation in the Sanctuary so Emma prepared for a lengthy stay. She even managed to get some sleep, although the sitting position was messing with her back and her still-on-the-mend shoulder. Judging by the light that fell from under the door she was stewing here for maybe 10 hours, so the whole night and then some. The door got opened by an Asian and Fat Guy who stared down at her for a second. Emma got up slowly.

“How familiar are you guys with the Geneva Convention, because I tells ya, you just broke six or seven articles by just stuffing me in here,” she got blank looks to that. “You guys here to apologize?”

“Come on, let’s go. Maggie wants to talk to you,” the Asian said. They were way more polite than Rick and led her to Gregory’s study without unnecessary force. Maggie sat behind the heavy looking desk. Rick, Paul, Daryl, Carol, the King, and Tara were scattered around the room looking at her either like they wanted to kill her or at least hurt her really badly. Awesome.

“Sit down,” Maggie said, and Emma sauntered over to the padded chair and let herself drop down on it like she owned the place. She lifted her handcuffed hands a little.

“Any chance to get rid of these? This handcuff chafing is starting to put the ones Simon is giving me to shame,” she said lightly. Then she turned to Tara. “If you know what I mean?”

“That’s pointless,” Daryl grunted. Yes, it probably was. Whatever this was it would lead to nothing but them being even more pissed off of her than they already were. That was basically her only mission here. She leaned back and put her hands on her stomach.

“So where’s Gregory?”

“Gone,” Maggie just said, probably deliberately leaving open what that meant exactly in an attempt to imply they had killed him. How badass.

“So you’re in charge now? That’s convenient. If I were you, Zeke, I would be careful, give it a month or two and Carol over there will sit on your throne,” she leaned forward and turned to the man (and heard very clearly how some guns got readjusted and cocked behind her back). “I have to ask. A tiger? Seriously?” she sat back. “That’s beyond cool, gotta admit that. I’m a bit disappointed in you, though. I thought we were friends. I really felt a connection with you there the other day.”

“You cut off Richards' arm.”

“But not his head. He still with us?”

“Yes?”

“Better keep him on suicide watch then. He was begging for it,” she turned to her other side, to Carol this time. “He _really_ was begging for it. But on the other hand he was begging for this, too, so he’s probably gloating right now,” Carol looked at her impatiently. Suddenly she waltzed over, took a piece of paper from the desk, and slammed a red crayon on top of it.

“You will give us the layout of the Sanctuary. You will tell us exactly where Negan sits, where the soldiers are and what defenses you have in place,” Emma looked at her with a face like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.

“Or?” she asked slowly when it was clear that Carol wasn’t going to say anything else.

“Oh, I thought that was clear. Or we gonna kill you.”

“Aw, the old do-what-we-say-or-we-gonna-kill-you routine. Usually sit on the other end of it. That’s exciting. My answer is, of course, no, absolutely not. Your turn,” she had Daryl’s knife in her face so fast she barely finished the sentence.

“You think this is a joke?” he yelled at her from a close distance. She turned her head away a bit.

“I am known for my rather witty and light take on situations like that.”

“Daryl,” Paul said. He obviously had become Daryl’s own personal Jiminy Cricket since that day in the bike lot. He took the knife away, but then he grabbed her by the back of her head and somehow shoved her towards the desk.

“Write down the damn layout,” he demanded and Jesus Christ, what was wrong with that asshole? Emma pushed herself back from the desk and glared at him for a second. Then she shook her head.

“You know when you’re sleep deprived your brain starts to literally eat itself. I guess that’s what happened to you,” the knife was back in an instant.

“We need her,” Paul put a hand on his elbow and reluctantly Daryl let got.

“We don’t need her,” Daryl mumbled, and Tara agreed on that.

“We know that there are workers in the Sanctuary, children. Ordinary people who just try to get by day by day. And we know you care about them. And your people,” Maggie’s voice was somehow tense. Like she had a hard time fighting the urge to gouge Emma's eyes out. Boy, that woman was on the verge to be devoured by the need for revenge. “We will attack the Sanctuary. With or without your intel, but we don’t want to kill more people than necessary,” and now she was downright lying into Emma’s face. She wanted to kill all of them. “You tell us where the workers are. You don’t wanna put ‘em in harm’s way,” Emma looked at Maggie with wide eyes. Then to Paul and Rick. She palmed her face.

“Alright,” she said more to herself and slipped closer to the desk and pulled the piece of paper over. Then she proceeded by drawing a big red rectangle on the paper and let the crayon hover a bit before she wrote the words fuck you in the center of it. It was childish and a little stupid, but she rumbled it and threw it in Maggie’s face. To give the woman credit she didn’t even flinch.

“Can we just kill her now?” Tara asked.

“Yeah, bring it,” she expected someone to swiftly blow her lights out, but what happened next was nothing. Nobody did anything. Emma frowned. “Am I not vexing enough? I can tune it up.”

“There are ways to get it out of you,” Carol said sweetly, and Emma just scoffed.

“I was raped and tortured for three weeks by 7 different guys, whatever it is you want to throw at me, I had worse,” Emma had a change of scenery. Instead of anger, hate, and a little bloodlust everyone sported now faces in various stages of shock. “What? You thought you’re the only people here that went through some stuff? Difference is not all of us go and start a skirmish because someone was mean to them,” she kept it for herself that all the assholes had been killed. Emma scratched her nose made herself even more comfortable in her seat than before. She looked at Maggie smug. “I mean you _can_ order me to take off my flannel and bend me over that desk here, but I don’t think that will impress me much,” she could see Maggie paling on that. Yeah, she knew about what the Governor had done to her. Emma had a way of gathering information, she probably knew more about every single one of them than they thought. Emma sat forward and put her arms on her knees.

“Let’s make a deal. I draw you a pretty picture of the Sanctuary and where the workers are stashed, and you introduce me to the guy or gal that knows so much about me. Sounds like a fan. I wanna meet ‘em,” now Maggie looked caught. Hadn’t they realized that they had given away that they oh so obviously had an insider in the Saviors? Maggie might have been able to gather that she was with Simon, but that was about it. “Is it your friend Eugene? He’s certainly smart enough to find a way to send you secret little messages. Another guess would be the doc, but he isn’t with us long enough to actually gather useful information, besides we watch him like hawks. Come on guys, you gonna kill me anyway, so who’s the mole?”

“You’re right,” Rick said slowly. “We gonna kill you. And we gonna make sure that Negan and Simon see it.”

“So dark,” Emma scoffed. “That will just piss them off. What’s your beef with Simon? Negan I get, even me, but what’s the guy ever done to you? On the other hand, none of the assholes you offed had done anything to you either. You are taking this give me half your stuff really personal.”

“He killed a boy, name was Rory. He was only 16 years old,” Paul said softly, and Emma sighed.

“Real sob story. Well told. But it ain’t that he made a habit out of it,” she stopped and pulled a face. “Yeah, I kind of heard it myself there,” all the bits of sympathy she had gotten for her comment earlier dissipated into thin air. She had that effect. Maggie glared at her, then she got up. She even braced herself on the table when she leaned forward.

“How can you live with these people? How can you live with yourself? The Saviors are murderers, thieves, Negan is a monster, and you just sit here with your smug face taking none of it seriously. You are no better than them,” Emma huffed a laugh.

“Did you think I was better? Wait, did you actually hope that I somehow buddy up with you again? Wow. Besides, careful Margaret when you climb up that high horse that you don’t fall down and pull a muscle. No one in this room has a leg to stand on. Carol over there once knifed two people and set them on fire. Rick’s little psychopath shot another kid that was in the middle of surrendering in cold blood and everyone was shockingly cool with it. Just two weeks ago Daryl tried to strangle me with enough animalistic rage it puts Ezekiel’s tiger to shame. And a while back you all participated in the coward and unnecessary murder spree among my people like the proper hit men you all are. The Saviors are murderers and thieves, and they are thugs, and bullies and violent sociopaths. But unlike you, we own it. I stand by every kill, every beating, every amputation I ever made since I am with the Saviors. Look around. Everything you have you took from other’s, too. So spare me your moral high ground bullshit,” she turned to Paul and the King a bit. “I hope you told your people the truth. You are just the cannon fodder for Rick and Maggi’s vengeance spree. Two weeks of light knifeplay will prepare them exactly for shit when the gunfire starts. This isn’t about _sic semper tyrannis_ , this is because we snuffed a couple of fan favorites. The deal with the Saviors from your end of the table sucked. I know that. But no one died. At least not more than necessary. And now Rick's gonna lead you to a fight you think is just and fair, when at the end its anything but. It didn’t even matter who will win, us or you. When the smoke has cleared you will look around and all you will see is a whole lot of dead friends.”

There was an awkward silence after her speech and she looked around in faces displaying a lot of mixed feelings, especially the King and his overweighed handmaiden looked a bit flummoxed

“Can I get back in my closet now? I was just about to solve a math problem to keep me occupied and I really wanna know when train A left Grand Central Station,” she snapped at no one in particular. Maggie made a little head jerk and Fat Guy came over and grabbed her by the arm. She shook him off.

“I know the way, asshole,” she got up and waltzed out of the room. In the doorway, she stopped shortly. “In case of an attack, the workers gather in the back of the factory floor. Keep your bullets away from there and they will be fine,” with that she walked out of the room and up the stairs.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An in and an out

Emma had tried to convince the tiger to eat her when she had to sit through yet another inspirational speech by Rick, Maggie, or the King, but the big cat just kept gnawing on its pig head. At least Fat Guy had chuckled. His name was Jerry and the past three days they nearly became somewhat non-hostiles to each other. He still looked about ready to put that ax to good use if she would act up, but he could understand a joke, even ones from the enemy. Then she had a very tense drive with Rick, Maggie and Discount Jesus to the Sanctuary and was wondering now when exactly her glorious execution was about to take place. She also wondered about the bag on her head. Negan had already managed to give 500 words to the situations although they just got here.

“I’m certainly not gonna let my people die over that shit like you’re about to. So, Rick. What the hell can I do for you?”

“Dwight. Your name’s Simon. You’re Gavin. And you,” he stopped. What was that? Little fail in his daily briefings with the Sanctuary’s own personal mole?

“Regina,” look at that. The whole band together. This couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Rick, I’d feel remiss if,” Rick interrupted Eugene.

“No. I know who you are. Listen you five. The Saviors inside. All of you have a chance. To survive this. You all can live and surrender. Can’t guarantee it any time but now. Right now,” there was no answer for a while. Then Emma got grabbed and shoved hard on her knees. She knelt for what felt like 30 very long seconds then someone pulled the bag away.

“Seriously, why the bag?” she said while she tried to remove a fiber from her lips. “I wear red shorts and a blue flannel. That’s really flamboyant. They probably knew who I was without the dramatic reveal,” she got a barrel pushed against her neck and flinched away. It wasn’t hot anymore, but still warm enough to cause some discomfort. Then she looked up to the entrance of the Sanctuary. No question they had thought she was dead. How bloody exactly had that tiger attack looked? Simon stood there like he had just sunken into himself, his arms hanging down his body and with a blank expression. Then the light on his face went on again, bringing mostly anger with it. Anger at Rick. He stepped a couple of steps forward until Negan almost casually stopped him by putting the back of his hand against his chest.

“What kind of shit is that now, Rick?”

“Simon,” Emma looked over to Rick. “You care for her, right? Not only you, a lot of Saviors inside there, too,” Her eyes flicked between him and Simon. Simon palmed his face and stepped a step back. “I don’t wanna kill her. She doesn’t have to die. All I want is Negan. Hand him over, surrender, everybody lives,” now Negan shot Simon the tiniest look while Simon just glared at Rick loathsomely. He wouldn’t do it, but the considerate girlfriend she was she would make it easy for him. If she would indeed die today he shouldn’t blame himself for that.

“He will kill us anyway. All of us. He said it himself,” she called over and Rick grabbed her by the neck and pressed his rifle on her temple. “Come on Rick. Do it. Give ‘em a reason to kill you all,” she pressed out.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be? You show up here, threaten to murder one of my favorite people, breaking my right-hand man’s heart and that of a lot of people inside there in the process? This shit is just cold, Rick. Simon?” Simon just looked at him confused for a second, but then he seemed to remember that there was obviously some kind of plan. He gave her one last look, let his hand run through his hair and walked into the Sanctuary. Meanwhile, Negan stood around almost relaxed. Simon pushed Gregory out of the Sanctuary and the man puffed up a little and gave a very strained speech about how everyone fighting on Rick’s side would get banished from the Hilltop. Absolutely no one was buying it. At least Simon got a chance to vent a little when he pushed the guy down the stairs.

“You’re gonna make me count?” Rick asked Negan. He pressed his gun in the vulnerable hollow of her neck. Emma looked Simon in the eyes the whole time. He looked pained, but this was really happening. None of them could do anything about it. “Okay, okay. I’m counting. 10, 9,” at this point even Negan looked a bit heartbroken. At least she had made a lot of impact. “8, 7,” what saved her was Rick’s impatience and the titanium hard-on he had for killing Negan. Instead of counting all the way down to zero and putting a bullet in her head he started firing at Negan. That was the cue for everyone to fire. Emma wasted no time. She tackled the first person to her right, got back up her feet with adrenaline enhanced super speed and darted to a concrete barrier. She more or less threw herself behind it and kept her head down for what felt like forever until bit for bit the gunfire ceased. Emma deemed it safe enough to peek around the corner. Phase two of the plan obviously became effective, since the Militia was driving away one after the other. There still were people firing at the Sanctuary, but it became less and less. She had to get back inside. That was the safest place right now. Yeah, so here goes nothing. She got up and ran towards the (wide open, what was wrong with the idiots inside) entrance of the Sanctuary using every bit of cover she could get. She was halfway there when someone grabbed her and pulled her down. Just in time since a spurt of a gun ripped open another concrete barricade where her ribcage just had been.  Negan sort of pressed her to his body, even covering her with himself. He pushed her head down.

“Ain’t gonna lie doll. I thought this is it for you,” he said nearly cheerfully and examined the handcuffs on her hand. They still were under fire, but it felt like just one, maybe two gunmen. He pulled out a paperclip and started to break open the cuffs. Emma just stared down on her hands.

“Shit, darlin’. That’s not the sex toy kind, that’s police issue, might take me,” he got open the left one and turned to the right. “Ha look at that. Still have it,” he fumbled for a little longer until he got the other side off, too. He looked around some metal rods while he casually massaged her wrist. “That’s the Rick asshole. You didn’t happen to have a gun on you? Never mind,” he mumbled.

“Why you have a paperclip with you?” Emma asked dumbfounded because that was obviously the pressing issue here. He looked at her like she just asked something really stupid.

“Filing fucking documents. Why do you think? For situations like that. Okay, he’s leaving. We need to get back inside. Come on, let’s live a little,” he pulled her up, still covering her with his body, and together they ran towards the Sanctuary. Emma vaguely wondered how he has gotten so far away from it in the first place. There was a bang and the ugly RV, the rustbucket Negan had taken Rick for a ride in, came racing towards the entrance and crashed into the stairs. They both just sort of stared at it for a while.

“What the hell,” Negan said and then the thing exploded. It wasn’t like a huge fireball, but the blastwave sent them both on their asses. Emma hit the ground with the back of her head which effectively knocked her out for a bit. She still was hearing static when Negan pulled her up just to let her drop back to the ground again to fend off a member of the not-so-recently deceased that wasn’t alone. Shit, where did they come from? Emma stumbled back on her feet. She had no weapon and the dead came in hard and fast. Negan and she already had only one way out, and funny enough, it wasn’t the same one.

“Go,” she urged Negan who looked back and forth between her and the Sanctuary.

“You sure?”

“Just get the fuck outta here. I’ll be fine,” he nodded and made a run for it. Good idea. Emma ran between some barricades to the back of the yard and now, after nearly 10 years, that idiotic climbing-over-walls training paid finally off. It was a bit of a risky move since she didn’t know what was behind the wall, but instead in a bunch of roamers ready to tear her apart, she landed inelegantly in a pile of rotting fabric. She pulled a face to the smell and hoisted herself up on the wall. This was the eastern perimeter of the Sanctuary, a maze of small alleys, practical brick buildings and the occasional parking lot. They kept it clean from the dead, but now, after Rick had led a goddamn herd in their front yard who knew what was stumbling around here. She needed a weapon, and quick. She didn’t even make it three steps when she simply fainted. She had spent four days as a POW with close to no sleep, they had given her very little to eat, she had three near-death experiences in the last hour alone, the bite on her arm showed signs of a mild infection, and she had hit her head. There was only so much a body could take.

She could hear before she could see.

“Is she dead?”

“No, hand me that water, would you,” Wade’s go-to solution to wake her up was pouring lukewarm water over her face. Some ran into her nose and down her throat and she started coughing and roughly shoved Wade’s hand away. Then she propped herself on her elbows and looked at Wade. He looked worried and overall happy to see her.

“Wow, it feels like yesterday we had a vigil for you,” he said after she just stared at him for a while. Emma scoffed and got a bit more upright.

“I maybe look dead, and kinda smell dead, but despite the staggering evidence I’m very much alive,” he had maybe a dozen Saviors with him. All of them looked like shit. “What happened to you?” Wade shared a long look with one of his guys.

“The Outpost’s gone,” he stated simply.

“What do you mean, gone?” she asked flatly.

“We were on our way here when we got called back. They had us pinned down waited for our dead to turn and,” he sighed and palmed his face. “They are all dead,” the words felt like someone just poured red-hot, melted metal down her spine.

“All of ‘em? What about the workers?”

“All of it.”

“And the baby?” Wade made a vague shrug.

“I really don’t know,” he said flatly. Tina had been in that Outpost. Emma had brought her there. What did these people just do?

“How is that even possible,” she asked with a hollow voice.

“We weren’t ready,” Emma’s eyes snapped to Wade.

“You weren’t ready? It’s been fucking days,” she got up. “How long have I been out.”

“That depends when you dropped,” she shot Wade a menacing look.

“Just tell me the time, smartass.”

“It’s around 10.”

“It’s 9.47,” some guy said. So roughly two hours. Shit. Suddenly all the bits and pieces she had overheard made sense. They kettled all the head honchos in the Sanctuary, rendering the rest of the assholes de facto useless, attacked the Outposts more a less simultaneously, and depending on how much intel the mole had given them probably raided their stashes when they were at it.

“We need to get to the Chem Plant. And fast.”

“Shouldn’t we try to find a way to get the Saviors out of Sanctuary first?” she glared at the man who said that.

“What’s your name?”

“Kevin.”

“Listen Kevin, since you brought it up. Take three others and then you go to that weapon stash Regina and I just re-equipped. There are four M201 grenade launcher. Looks basically like a stocky pump-action. And the assault rifles and the ammo of course. You know what? Just bring everything that looks remotely useful. Ain’t gonna lie, that’s maybe a suicide mission since we have someone among us who’s feeding Rick and his posse information. But not a lot of people know about the place. So fingers crossed. You four,” she pointed at a little group somehow huddled together. One seemed injured and one was Cam. “You hunker down here. Keep an eye on the place. If they’re smart, and I have to admit they are, they have snipers in the windows or anywhere else, people that will wanna try to stop us from getting in. Find out how many, and where, take ‘em out if you can, but no risks. And you,” she turned to Wade. “You and me and what’s left from the Shepherd Outpost go the Chem Plant. We maybe will even be making it in time,” she already walked to the truck.

“What’s in the Outpost? The Satellite Station is closer,” he hurried to follow.

“The Satellite Outpost is probably gone, too, or will be. We never make it there in time. Same for the Armitage. The Chem Plant is our best chance,” he looked at her in disbelief. She rolled her eyes. “Look, I don’t have time to explain in detail. But the Kingdom’s on its way there. But they go through the woods, on foot. That means it will take ‘em buttloads of time. It’s far, but we can make it. We need to get our people out of there,” she climbed into the passenger seat.

“How do you know that?”

“They were so confident that the whole mess will end with me dead that they elaborated plans right in front of me. Chop, chop, let’s save our people. Didn’t hurt that they have two Browning 0.50. That shit can penetrate a tank.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma takes the Kingdom hostage

“Movement on the eastern treeline.”

“Copy that. Stay put.”

Everyone was tense, Emma included. Halfway to the Chem Plant, she had broken Negan’s imposed radio silence and had given them a heads up. Her first impulse had been to order them all to abandon the Outpost, all hands, and all guns, and to meet them halfway to the Sanctuary. A convoy of two dozen cars would be hard to attack, even if they would run into the weekend militia. But then she had (on a whim, to be honest) decided fuck it. If there was a slight chance to take out part of the problem, why not try it? So she had ordered a complete lockdown instead, no one in and no one out with the BMG’s on the windows, and to wait for her. They had arrived nearly two hours ago. Had taken the Kingdom long enough to get to them. She had even time to eat a half decent meal, to wash up a little, and to change her ripe clothes. You don’t go to war in shorts and a flannel, you go to war in cargo pants that were one size too big and a blue tank top. She watched the Kingdomers crawling slowly and carefully up the pasture in front of the Outpost, assault rifles ready and in some sort of attack formation.

“They’re too scattered,” Wade mumbled next to her.

“Wait for it,” she answered calmly. When the Kingdom would continue its current path they would have them surrounded on three sides soon enough with the only way to escape right in the line of fire. They could mow them down like something you mow, grass. Emma needed sleep. Two hours of shuteye in the back of Wade’s truck had only taken the edge off.

“I’ve got them in my visor,” Kelvin’s voice crackled in the cheap walkie next to her. Not much else than a toy, shitty range, bad reception, but nearly impossible to interfere with.

“Hold your fire,” the King now stopped his people with a raised fist. He probably had seen the gesture in movies or some shit. They gathered together, seemingly confused by the lack of any attack. The Outpost in front of them looked abandoned. Emma had made sure of that. They had moved most of the cars down the road, the doors were wide open, some scattered boxes let it appear that they left in a hurry. By the looks of it, the King thought that they had been too late to the party. She could see him palm his face.

“Permission to shoot, Lieutenant,” Kelvin asked, and Emma scoffed a bit. Kelvin was a vet and when they would resort into old military ways she would have to call him Sir since he outranked her.

“Permission granted, Chief,” she said instead with a little irony in her voice. It was a waste of ammo. It was a show of strength. A volley out of the BMG ripped open a long stretch of grass right in front of the Kingdoms feet. It was dangerously close. Kelvin hadn’t shitted her that he knew how to handle that thing. The Kingdomers pulled up their rifles, some half-assed rounds were fired towards the Outpost, but overall the reaction was how Emma had anticipated it, confusion and fear. She grabbed the speaker of the megaphone Wade was now holding up. She and the vast majority of the Saviors in the Outpost had taken cover in the surrounding woods.

“Keep an eye out for that tiger,” she said in her walkie to no one in particular and pressed the speaker button. “If I were you I wouldn’t move, Zeke,” her voice echoed over the meadow, reverberated by the walls of the Outpost. It was nearly impossible to find out where it came from. The hostiles looked around, most turned to their King.

“That’s a Browning Heavy Machine Gun with 0.50 cal ammunition. It’s not only useful for advanced digging up a field, you would be surprised what it can do to a human body. Think a chicken filled with a lot of firecrackers. We got you surrounded. That’s my first and only offer for you and your people to get out of this alive. Lay down your weapons and then you all take position two of the sun salute, hands up in the air, all the way up, stretch them backs,” she waited to let the command sink in for a bit. Nothing happened. Come on, Zeke, don’t force her hand here. With a sigh, she took the walkie.

“Okay, do it,” Kelvin fired only one shot. It hit a woman right in the chest, busted her sternum, made basically her back explode and sent her flying at least 20 feet backward. Holy shit. Emma had never seen that up close. After some long seconds of impressed silence, she picked up the speaker again.

“That was one round Zeke, one. We have 3000 more of them. Lay down your weapons, hands in the air. 3,” the Kingdomers looked desperate now at Ezekiel who just stared at his dead soldier. “2,” he tossed his sword stick thingy on the ground and had his hands in the air before she could make it to three. The wind carried his pleadings to not shoot to her. Smart man. His soldiers followed their Kings example, albeit in some cases reluctantly. Emma felt herself relax. That had gone well and not one soul lost. So far.

“Okay, go get ‘em boys and girls,” the Saviors gave up their cover and swarmed the Kingdom. There was a lot of unnecessary yelling and shoving, but at the end, they had 40 something people with their hand's zip-tied behind their backs sitting on their asses in a neat row against the fence. Wade handed Emma her gun back. Jerry had the courtesy to keep it for her.

“That was a gift,” she said to him and he stared up at her. He was the only one whose hands were tied in front of him. For a guy that large it would be really uncomfortable with his hands on his backs the whole time. Whoever did that had shown more compassion than Rick and the gang to her. She walked over to the King who held his chin up in defiance. Emma rolled her eyes.

“Okay, the Renaissance Fair is over. One word that even sounds remotely like you think this is King Lear and I shave that impressive hair of your head using a rusty, blunt kitchen knife I dipped in walker sauce. Understood?”

“Yes,” he pressed out. She took her gun and looked down on it for a second before she checked the mag and put it back in. She straightened the collar on his indigo coat.

“I would beat you black and blue right now if you weren’t that already,” she said casually. ”You are probably surprised to see me. Thought I would be dead by now, am I right? I mean Rick really pulled a number on the Sanctuary, but that’s just a temporary delay for the inevitable. Tell me, Your Majesty, are these all your soldiers or did you leave some at the Kingdom? I mean who’s guarding the civilians? Just the old and the crippled or are there more of your professional LARPers hunkered down behind those walls ready to gun every one of us into the next life?” he glared at her.

“Why don’t you go and find it out yourself,” Emma looked him in the eyes for a long time. Then she sighed.

“Wade,” she said flatly, and the man puffed up a bit.

“Okay guys, like we talked about,” the Saviors lined up in front of the Kingdomers, one for every soldier. Guns were cocked and aimed, some of the men and women looked really ready to pull the trigger. The King turned to the new development alarmed. Emma nearly gently pulled his chin in her direction, forcing him to look at her.

“I ordered them to shoot them in the chest. We want them to turn. Then we gonna cart them to the Kingdom and enjoy the looks on their friends' and families' faces when we unleash them on the rest of your people,” something in the King broke. Finally, he seemed to realize that it was over for him.

“Don’t do this. Please. We surrendered. You can’t do this.”

“Why not? Why should I care if you surrendered or not, hm? We are the bad guys, aren’t we? The monsters? The murderers?” all he was seeing was a cold face with even colder eyes. It was a show. Straight out of the book of Negan.

“Please. I’m begging you. Kill me, but not my people.”

“How many soldiers and civilians are at the Kingdom?” she asked patiently. He swallowed visibly.

“67 residents, well versed in self-defense,” Emma ignored the lapse back into his discount Shakespearean language. “And we left 7 soldiers behind to defend the place. With their lives, if need be,” she let some very long moments pass when she just held eye contact. Suddenly she got up.

“That won’t be necessary since we have their King, isn’t that so?” she made a hand wave and the Saviors stepped back from the POWs. Some seemed to be disappointed that they didn’t get to kill some, but she was the boss. “Ain’t gonna lie Zeke, you probably won’t get out of this alive,” there was a scream and a roar somewhere on the treeline. Goddamn tiger. Emma was surprised that the sudden commotion the animal attack had caused didn’t make one of the Kingdomers feel entitled to try something stupid.

“What we gonna do?” someone asked her, and she looked at the owner of the voice perplexed.

“I don’t know. If only we had guns,” it wasn’t a well-phrased order, so it took a moment to settle in. After some uncomfortable glances, a little group was brave enough to engage the cat. It was a shame really. The King showed more emotions to his tiger being killed than to one of his people earlier. He actually tried to attack her. Emma had her gun on his forehead before he even made it halfway up and he sunk down slowly. Then he stared with wet eyes over to where one of her guys put some rounds in the tiger's head for good measure.

“You didn’t need to do this,” he said flatly. Emma sighed.

“What else were we supposed to do? Reason with her? You shouldn’t have brought her. Get up,” she pulled him up on one arm.

“Where are you taking him?” Jerry demanded to know. Did no one here know how to behave according to a situation? She glared at him.

“Make an educated guess, Jerry,” she snapped. Gunshots erupted from out of the compound. What the hell now? She pulled the King closer. “Who the fuck is that?” he looked at her with empty eyes. Great. She just broke the King two times in 10 minutes.

“Wade, Danny, with me,” she ordered and let the King drop down on the ground again. “You others, establish a perimeter. Keep an eye on the prisoners. If someone tries something? You know the drill,” with that she waltzed to the Outpost. Carefully. There was more gunfire. It sounded like a goddamn shootout. Emma peaked behind a corner. Jesus Christ. Seriously? Yago and a couple of others had pinned a single person behind a pick-up truck. _One person._ Carol was starting to get on her nerves with her Terminator bullshit.

“I can tell you where the others are. Just let me live! They’re hiding out, waiting for other Saviors to show up,” BULL.SHIT.

“Nice and slow,” Yago ordered. Emma rolled her eyes.

“Stay here, I got this,” she mumbled. No one else had seen them so far. Emma darted behind a container that was the height of the pick-up.

“I’m unarmed,” by the looks of it she wasn’t lying, she still had her knuckle knife though. But who knew. Emma used the fact that Carol was distracted and walked up to her from behind. She pressed the barrel of her gun against Carol's head the same moment she grabbed her knife.

“Hey Carol,” she said sweetly and the woman, after a short moment of tension kind of sunk into herself annoyed.

“You’re not dead, huh,” she stated dryly, and Emma chuckled.

“Nope, I’m like HPV, every time you thought you got me I’ll be right back causing discomfort in all the wrong places. Is that act ever working?”

“You would be surprised,” Wade tied her hands, too. She needed to keep an eye on that woman. She seemed to have more luck than Emma had.

“She just offed a bunch of our guys. Rudy, Kelvin,” Yago spat. Someone wanted blood. Emma sighed. So many dead people. She should just kill every one of them out of principle, make true on the threat she had just made to the King.

“Shut up and get one BMG in the truck. One stays here. Keep a bucket of ammo. Congratulation Yago, you’re in charge now,” she grabbed Carol by the arm. “Let’s take a walk,” while the others supervised by Wade got the gun and the ammo to a van she, Yago and Carol walked over to the fence. She pushed the woman around a corner and now she really deflated.

“See that? That’s your army. Lined up and surrendered like the pussies they are. This here is officially a bust. And you maybe notice the lack of dead people. Unlike you I’m not slaughtering indiscriminately,” she turned to Yago. “Get me the King, then you get the prisoners inside. Look them in that silo. They can’t get out of it even if they try. After that, you go back to look-down. Complete siege mode. If someone shows up to get them out let them waste their ammo on the walls. The BMG is some last resort kind of thing. Don’t use your bullets unless you are sure you kill someone,” Yago nodded and walked over to spread the message. Emma escorted Carol to the van. The woman wasn’t fighting her, she climbed in the back and sat down uncomfortably. Emma nervously tapped a finger on the door while she waited for the King to arrive. She didn’t know the whole plan, so she wasn’t sure if the Militia was on its way here right now. They needed to get the BMG to the Sanctuary. Carol, of course, sensed her uneasiness.

“We gonna win this, you know?” Emme scoffed.

“And I will try to prevent that with all I have. Seems like we are pretty much even, so let’s see who will have the upper hand at the end.”

Yago showed up with an impassive King on his arms. He climbed in the van without protest and sat down with his head hanging low. Carol looked at him worried.

“Are you okay?” the King wasn’t answering.

“He’s a bit troubled. We just killed his pet,” Emma tied their feet, too, before she climbed out of the car and slammed the door shut. Wade appeared next to her.

“You sure about phase three? Just you and me is a bit of a risky move,” he maybe was right. But one car was faster than a convoy and she didn’t want to risk losing more people. If they got intercepted and killed so be it. But she jumped the blade often enough the past few days she was confident she could do it some more times. And so she at least could be sure that they had 49 soldiers relaxed, reclined and combat ready at their disposal, waiting for their orders.    

“Come on, let’s roll out,” she said clapping Wade’s shoulder. After some orders on how to treat the prisoners, she climbed next to Wade. She shot a look back at Carol and Ezekiel who sat there like good little detainees.

“Alright,” Wade said optimistically. “Just you and me and the road filled with people hellbent on killing us. What can go wrong,” with that he started the car.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Walking Dead - Fury Road

Emma had dozed for a while. It was a bit unfair towards Wade who was awake for longer than a human being should be, too, but he seemed awfully chipper. He probably needed the win. They all needed the win, and despite a handful of dead people, they had gotten that win without too much collateral.  They were three quarters to the Sanctuary, in short one and a half hours they could disintegrate the herd in front of their doorstep and then take a shower and fell into a coma. That was the plan at least. There was even a small chance that the people inside had found a way to get out on their own, which would be a lucky break since they really could use the 50 cal for more alive targets later.

“Shit,” Wade said next to her right before they got hit by a car. He had surprisingly fast reflexes and brought the van back under control after just a little swerving. Then he pushed the gas to get away from the attacker. It was Rick in a Jeep, and he currently pulled his colt on them. Wade saw it, too. He channeled his inner Vin Diesel and yanked the steering wheel to the left the second Rick shot. The van bent dangerously to one side, sending Carol and Ezekiel topple over each other. They maybe should have secured them a little better, at least the inorganic cargo was safely stashed away. Wade drove like he did this before. Emma was really impressed. Knowing that Rick would have a hard time to drive and to shoot properly he was currently driving a zigzag along the road that made it impossible for Rick to hit them. It made it impossible for Emma to do something about Rick, too. Like one asshole with a gun wasn’t enough Daryl showed up behind him, on a motorcycle. Rick let him go past. He speeded up and was about to pass them using the shoulder of the road. He had a gun, too. It was clear that his plan was to take out the driver of the van in passing.

“Wade?” Emma urged a bit. The man’s eyes flicked between the road and the side mirror.

“I’m on it,” he mumbled. He really made it exciting here. He basically let Daryl drive by and waited for him until he was at the height of the driver side. Wade stirred the car to the left rather gently, forcing Daryl to drive on the shoulder again. He still felt confident enough to aim at them. Wade hit the brakes briefly, so Daryl shot to the front. Then he accelerated the van again, yanked the steering wheel to the left and rammed the bike hard. He sent Daryl flying over the shoulder down the ditch. It was a mean hit and a meaner fall. Emma looked back, even Rick hit the brakes now, probably unsure if he should help his brother in arms or not. Wade had definitely taken out the bike, maybe he had taken out the man as well. Wade pushed the gas hard, but the Jeep was faster. Rick hadn’t given up yet.

“My turn. Try to keep the car steady,” she said and climbed in the back. She took one of the AR 15 out of the little weapon box they had stashed in the back. Carol and Ezekiel still somehow lay all over the place. Emma shoved the King away roughly and got on one knee. Wade swerved again.

“Sorry, he’s still trying to shoot. So maybe hurry a bit?” he yelled back at her. Emma took leverage against a wall, a sad excuse for a strong foothold, but it had to do. She opened the lever and pushed one door open with the barrel of the gun. She shot before she could really see anything. The volley hit the Jeeps hood, hopefully causing some damage. But that was not Emma’s plan. She went for the man. The windshield busted in a million pieces and Rick oversteered the Jeep that made a half turn on the road. That was a start. Emma could see him hitting away the rest of the glass and bring the car back in the right direction. She took a long breath and aimed this time, carefully. After one last blink to focus her view on Rick’s forehead she was caressing the trigger. She squeezed it but hit shit. Carol had kicked her in the side with both tied feet. Yeah, she really should have seen that coming. Emma lost the little footing she had and almost fell out of the van. It was the kind of situation where you cut your losses, so she let go of the gun in favor of breaking the fall. Of course, it rumbled out of the van. Emma glared at Carol who tried to kick her again, obviously intending to send her after her rifle. Emma pulled her closer by the zip-ties. The bitch had just given her an idea. Carol had no clue what was happening when Emma pulled her knife.

“Wade, slow the car down a bit,” she called out and got a muddled looked over the rearview mirror.

“It’s your funeral,” he shouted and took away some speed. Rick reduced his arrears really fast. Emma pulled Carol up and in front of her. With one swift motion, she cut off the zip-ties on her feet. The woman looked at her confused.

“Hit the brakes when I tell you,” Rick hat stopped aiming his gun at them and now looked shocked at Carol. It probably dawned on him what that meant, that their little attempt at the Outpost hadn’t worked out. Emma turned to Carol.

“Keep the muscles relaxed. You’ll be fine. Now!” Wade braked hard and Rick drove nearly into them. Emma had anticipated it and shoved Carol forward the same time she cut her ties on her hands. The woman was a badass, might as well give her a fair chance. Carol landed shoulder first on the hood and halfway on the open driver cap. Rick yanked the car to the side. This time he lost control. It spun over the asphalt sending Carol flying like a rag doll in some shrubbery. Wade had speeded up again. The last thing Emma saw before they turned around a corner and out of sight was the Jeep turning over. They had made it. With a grin, Emma closed the door.

“Are they gone?” Wade called.

“Yeah, hopefully they will be the only ones that try to stop us,” Emma pulled the King up in a sitting position. He stared at her with wide eyes.

“You are a psychopath,” he said to her with a hollow voice and Emma huffed a laugh.

“I don’t know Zeke. A psychopath probably doesn’t have so much fun doing shit like that,” she climbed back in the passenger seat. Wade held out his fist and she bumped it with hers.

“No matter how this ends? I’m gonna keep you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just thought Rick and the gang had too many wins in the show...bear with me :)


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Right in the feels

“People of the Sanctuary. Sanctuarians,” Emma looked down on the truck mounted with several speakers, but mostly she looked at Wade who stood there with the megaphone in his hand they had used earlier. She shouldn’t have let him do the talking. The stash hadn’t been plundered and Kevin and the others had brought them some goodies, the requested grenade launchers, the aforementioned car with the speakers and a whole lot of guns. Cam had done a great job with the sentries. Five in total, now only two, holed up in the windows right in front of her. Emma had climbed a roof and was currently laying in position to take them out with the grenade launcher. But first, she allowed Wade to make a little show.

“Behold,” a big show. “The Princess and I went through great lengths and a high-speed car chase to retrieve the BFG, the big fucking gun, from the Chem Plant Outpost. We will now proceed with the cleansing, although I wouldn’t call it that, what is about to happen is not clean at all, but there had been a vote. I have been assured the 50 cal ammo here is strong enough to penetrate a 9-inch wall and while I think this is probably an exaggeration, for your safety and comfort, please remain seated with your seatbelt fasted until the Captain turns off the Fasten Seat Belt sign. Meaning step away from the windows, take cover and don’t come out until Lieutenant Montgomery gives her okay. And to the two remaining assholes in the windows? You probably want to move,” if they hadn’t already Emma didn’t give them a chance. She had fired the first grenade at asshole and the second at move. It took three seconds and two windows simply exploded in a ball of fire. Some of the dead had already started to shuffle towards the source of all the noise, but it still wasn’t enough

“Okay Cam. Hit it,” Emma said in her walkie.

“Copy that,” some loud and annoying 80’s hip-hop started playing and Emma looked down on the herd that slowly started to move towards the car. They had positioned the BMG in an alley, so they would take the herd out from its flank and minimize the risk of ricochets flying into the Sanctuary. Even a ricochet from a 50 cal could go through a thin wall and cause some serious damage. Hence the warning.

“Okay, like we talked about. Nice and slow, round after round. Torsos and legs, no need to aim for a high B-note. We take out what’s left later, just scatter them all over the place,” she said in her walkie to Kevin who manned the gun. It took 15 minutes to get rid of most of the dead until Kevin announced they were officially out. Then they went over to take the rest out with the rifles which took another twenty. Emma had a satisfied look on her face.

“Alright, Cam. Drive around a bit. Draw out what’s left and what we just invited with all the noise,” he saluted and ran to the car. “Don’t get yourself killed,” she yelled after him. Emma took the megaphone.

“Ladies and Gentlemen? You’ve been freed. Ain’t gonna lie. We left the yard a bit in a mess,” it didn’t take long until the main entrance was opened, and Negan stepped out with an impressed grin on his face. So he had made it back in alive and in one piece. Good.

“Missed me?” she asked up to him and he laughed.

“Oh doll, you have no idea. And I’m not the only one,” Simon for once didn’t care about his public alpha male appearance. He wasn’t running to her or anything, he actually walked up to her rather slowly and mechanically, like he couldn’t really believe she was there, but then he took her in his arms tight enough to make it hard to breathe. They stood like that long enough it was getting a bit awkward when he finally stepped away and took her by her shoulders. He looked really tired and he needed to shave. He was checking her for injuries and his eyes fell on the bandage that had seeped through with blood. Sometime during her little encounter with Rick and Daryl, she had obviously opened the wound again.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he said softly.

“What? Saving everybody?” he frowned at her.

“Dying. It looked like that thing tore off your arm. Is it bad?”

“Probably needs a stitch or two. The thing is dead now.”

“Good,” he pulled her in another hug, a one-armed this time and pressed a kiss on her head. Negan had waited patiently the whole time and was now coming over, too.

“You keep doing shit like that I won’t have anything short of a wife I can offer you as a reward,” he said slyly, and Emma rolled her eyes.

“I want Wade in my team and he needs a promotion.”

“Done.”

“The Outposts are gone,” Negan sighed.

“We figured.”

“Not all of them, though. Chem Plant is on lookdown. And there’s more,” she kind of weaseled herself out of Simon’s grip who let her go with a sigh. Kevin had circled back the van and was now coming from the other side where they hadn’t piled up a huge amount of the dead. He drove back slowly under the guidance of Wade who opened the door with a smug grin.

“The hell is that?” Negan asked flatly.

“That’s King Ezekiel,” Gavin stated next to him.

“Huh,” Negan looked at the man. “And you wondered why she’s my favorite.”

“44 of his guys are in the Chem Plant. They surrendered. There are more at the Kingdom. 7 soldiers, 67 civilians. Zeke here was pretty chatty. On the downside we ran into Rick and Daryl, Wade wasn’t kidding with the high-speed car chase. There’s a small chance we’ve killed one or both, but I wouldn’t count on it. Bottomline. They probably know we’re out of here and that their little plan to hunger us out till we offer you to our new gods failed. Oh and we have a mole,” Negan looked at her with pursed lips.

“You don’t happen to know who that is since you obviously know everything else,” he asked with a smirk. “And seriously. Which of my wives do you want? Tanya’s a chef.”

“Tempting. But I want a shower, a meal, and a bed. Otherwise, I’m good. And my first bet was Mr. Porter, but whoever is feeding them intel knows too much. He doesn’t know half of the shit,” Negan palmed his beard. He needed to shave, too.

“Yeah,” he studied her face and then Simon’s. “Go take care of your girl. You two could use a little quality time. I need to think about our next step. Could probably use your input, especially yours, but you both are running on fumes, I can see that much,” Emma looked at Simon. How bad exactly had it been?

“Thanks,” Simon said softly and already took her hand and pulled her away gently. Emma turned back to Negan.

“You need to establish a perimeter. And someone should check on the Trashpeople,” he gave her a look.

“I know how to run this fucking place, Princess. I did it long before you,” did he, though? They just got overrun by 100 something sorghum farmers with hillbilly armored cars and a bad aim. Twice. Inside the Sanctuary she was greeted by something she didn’t have since her Junior High performance in The Wizard of Oz. She had been the Tin Man who had been the comic relief of the merry bands of idiots and so she had been widely popular. Emma got applause. A lot of it. Although she tended to end up right in the middle of it all the time Emma didn’t like attention and after some awkward minutes she kind of waved and fled the scene. She ran straight into Arat and the boys. If somebody had any doubt that they had more than a superior underling relationship going on would have been taught better with what happened next. She got a lot of hugs and claps on the shoulder. Even Simon had to smile a bit until he decided it was enough and pulled her away. She now sat on her bed, freshly showered, dressed in rather comfortable clothes and stuffed with a sandwich and some weird leftover stew that had tasted only half bad while Simon was examining the wound on her arm with a schooled eye. The doc was maybe better qualified, but she would not let the asshole go near her with anything sharp or pointy. No sir, absolutely not. Every single one of the people in Hilltop had been maniacs, why should he be any different? With her luck, he would poison her, and she wouldn’t even know what hit her. Simon could stitch her up just fine. He did it all the time.

“That’ll hurt,” he warned her lowly before he poured some hydrogen peroxide over the wound. And boy, it did. She pulled a face and turned away. It was easier to handle the sting when she wasn’t watching how reddish froth foamed out the wound. Simon repeated the spiel two times until he was satisfied with the result. She already had enough, and they hadn’t even gotten to the part with the needle and the thread.

“I could use a drink,” she mumbled, and Simon raised an eyebrow.

“After that,” he was taking this really seriously. He opened the little suture kit. It was the absorbable kind. They didn’t have many of those left. Simon was putting out for her.

“So what happened here?” she asked just to distract herself. Simon’s finger hovered a second before he pierced her skin without any hesitation. The first stitch was made in silence. It did hurt less than she had expected. Her skin was probably a bit numbed from the peroxide.

“What exactly do you want to know?” Emma sighed.

“To be honest? How you been, because babe I have to say, you are not looking so hot,” he scoffed humorlessly and did the second stitch with a steady hand. Just one more and they were done here.

“So you are calling me babe now? I thought no nicknames,” he tried to deflect and made the last stitch and the last knot. Then he took a bit of gauze and cleaned up what little blood the needle had drawn. Emma nudged him with her foot. He sighed dramatically.

“Okay, since we are all being honest here. I thought you died. I thought you were true, undoubtedly, certainly dead. I thought the tiger mauled your body so not even your mother would be able to identify you. There was so much blood and then that thing on top of you. The same thing that gutted Michael next to us with just one lazy paw swipe,” he sighed again and put another piece of soft gauze on the wound after he sprayed it with some stuff that was blue. Emma was half convinced that was meant for farm animals, but you can’t be picky with your disinfectants at the end of the world. His hands were still steady when he started to wrap a bandage around it. His voice wasn’t.

“I don’t even remember how we got back, or how I got inside. I remember Negan trying to talk to me, that is all. I was just,” he sighed another time. The bandage was a bit snug, but Emma wouldn’t interrupt him by pointing it out. “Empty. I didn’t feel that way about losing someone for a long time. I’m not even sure I felt that way ever. Not even when,” his mouth snapped shut and his lips were just a thin line now. Emma knew what he nearly said. Not even when his son died. Emma knew the stories. Not from Simon, though. From Simon, she just knew that he had a son, back in the day, barely 8 years old and that his name had been James. They had killed him, the people who ran this place before Negan. Shortly after Negan and a small group of loyal followers had arrived. Shortly before Negan took over. Not even for a reason. They had killed a little 8-year-old boy for target practice. Simon had lost it. It was too much in too short of a time. All the horrible things he had done to those people, all the atrocities the people who had been there still were shushing about, had been the actions of a man that had been barely human at this point. He had been in a really dark place then. It was actually surprising he was so normal now.

“I don’t know how to grief. I just don’t know how to do that, so I did nothing. I couldn’t do anything. I wasn’t even really there,” that sounded like grieving to Emma, but please continue. “And then Rick shows up here, with you. Alive. Just to threaten to kill you again. That was a whole new story all of the sudden. Now I didn’t lose you, no, I abandoned you. And I am so, so sorry about that. I ran out of Alexandria like a coward, leaving you for dead. I don’t even know if you can forgive me for that. I saw you getting away this morning. I knew you could handle yourself. We actually half expected you to show up here the way you did. But everything before? I am so sorry,” Emma stared at Simon with wide eyes. She had not seen that coming and to be completely honest here, she was a bit over her head. Simon had buried his face in his hands now. He had a really melodramatic streak. You learn something new every day.

“Simon.”

“I am sorry,” he said all muffled by his hands.

“Simon,” now he looked up. Shit, he had even cried a little. “I don’t need to forgive you anything. You did nothing wrong. You did not abandon me. You barely got out of there on your own, Negan had to drag you out. I saw that. I don’t blame you or any of the others for anything. Retreat was the right call. And you know that. You can’t blame yourself for that or beat yourself up about it. I am not allowing it,” he scoffed a bit.

“Em.”

“Seriously, I forbid it,” she said insistently.

“I don’t think you can just command me to …”

“Watch me,” she said sternly, and he chuckled for real this time. 

“I am sorry,” he said on last time.

“Don’t, come here,” this time it was her holding him. It was an uncomfortable position, her shoulder and back were protesting, and Emma couldn’t find it in her to give a single fuck about it. They sat that way for a very long time until she got the impression he was dozing off on her since he became very heavy in her arms. She pushed him away a bit. The poor guy looked dead on his feet.

“You need to sleep,” she said softly, and he answered with an even softer yeah. A little later she snuggled up to him with her cheek on his chest and one arm under his shirt like many nights before. He rubbed lazy circles with his thumb on her shoulder blade and sighed in content.

“Good night, babe,” Emma said with a little smirk. There was a heavy pause.

“So babe is a thing now?”

“Damn straight it is.”

“Alright, what do I call you?”

“I don’t care, as long as it isn’t doll, darling, sweetheart, or cupcake for that matter,” he chuckled.

“Fair enough. I will try out some options on occasion,” he pressed a kiss on her hair. “’night,” he mumbled. Emma was half asleep already when he started talking again.

“Em?” he should really try to sleep here. Tomorrow they would go to war. Tonight they both needed to rest.

“Hm?” was her only response.

“I didn’t really say it earlier, not explicitly. But you know, I mean, you know that I do, right?” he sounded almost shy there. Emma couldn’t help the big ol’ smile that crept on her face. She knew he could feel it.

“Me too, Simon. Me too.”   


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma and Arat have a dangerous conversation. Rick's an asshole

Emma landed with a low thud and looked around the walls for any movement. In and out in under fifteen, no one had seen her, that went well. She flitted into the woods soft-footed. Arat greeted her with a nervous yank with her gun from where she was hiding behind some trunks.

“Thank God,” she sighed and eyed their surroundings.

“Told you this will work out fine,” Emma grinned. Arat had been less than pleased with what Emma had proposed, so had Simon, Gary, in parts Gavin and Regina, even Negan, though the man was halfway there to believe she was unkillable which was the reason he had said well okay, screw it. All in. All, in that case, was only her, in had been Alexandria. The Kingdom had been abandoned, and judging by the fact that Alexandria seemed to be half-abandoned either they probably all were hunkering down at the Hilltop. Emma wasn’t sure what went down there right now, considering Simon was the one doing the delivery but assumed the man stuck to the plan, which wasn’t given, to be honest, he was currently telling them from a safe distance that they had 46 of their people and little quarrel to send them over in little pieces when they didn’t reconsider the deal. Arat and she walked slowly and carefully through the woods back to their trucks six miles east, hidden on a dirt road and heavily guarded. It still was a bit stupid to be out in the open with the Militia on the loose, but sometimes you had to take your chances.

“By the looks of it, it’s just kids, the injured and some civilians. I have seen no one of note. No Rick, no Maggie, no Daryl,” whom she would have tried to kill on sight, she was half sure about that. “Not even the kid. I think they prepare to get out. I don’t really understand that they leave them unguarded that way. They probably have some sort of plan,” she mumbled lowly. “And it’s probably only half-stupid and works out fine in the end. You know, I single-handedly could’ve killed everyone in there, but no, people are resources, money on the table,” she muttered in a droning tone, but with the best Negan impression so far. Arat shot her a look but didn’t say anything. 277 dead people and Emma was entertaining the idea to go postal Simon style and get creative on their POWs, the medieval type of creative. 277 against maybe a dozen or so on their side.  And Sasha wasn’t even included in that estimation. She had to put Tina down who had got bitten. Two times. Simon was surprisingly calm about it. She wondered if this was a good sign or a bad sign. He overall seemed not fully recovered from his recent trip into the land of unwanted emotions and was rather passive at the moment. A fact that clearly annoyed Negan. So she actually had been the only person this morning who had said out loud what Gavin and Regina by the looks of it only had been thinking. That killing them all was probably the only feasible solution. Negan had yelled at her of course, a lot, loud, needlessly threatening, so Emma had refrained from stating that handing over Negan might be another one.

“So what we gonna do now?” Arat asked. They had stopped and listened into the woods, but the snap they both had heard had been either just an animal or a trick of the wind.

“To be honest? Let them all squat at the Hilltop, return the siege favor and wait till they start to eat each other,” that wasn’t the worst of ideas. There was another snap. Emma shared a look with Arat and they both took cover behind some tree like one person. Two people were walking maybe 20 yards away from them in silence. Emma signaled Arat to circle back and the woman nodded and skipped away. The two passed her, she stepped from behind the tree and whistled.

“Hey there chum. Who’s your friend?” Carl froze and grabbed for his gun. Arat came from the flank. “I wouldn’t do that,” he and the other man slowly lifted their hands and turned around.

“Emma,” Carl said dryly. She squinted her eyes a bit.

“Carl,” she answered in the same tone. “Fancy meeting you here,” Arat took their guns and padded them down. Then she nodded. Emma let her gun down. Should Arat do the threatening.

“I was helping a friend.”

“Mighty risky being out in the woods all alone. Lucky me. The things we could do with you,” she grinned. Like leveraging Rick, big time.

“Let him go. He has nothing to do with this,” Emma eyed the newcomer up and down. She had never seen his face and he looked worse to wear.

“Hell of a timing to join the party. You know I can’t do that, right? I’m afraid you both will have to come with me,” she turned to the other man. “How you are feeling about kneeling, positive, negative, ambiguous?” he looked at her confused.

“Please, he was just helping me. We did nothing wrong,” he seemed a little irritated about the hostility on her side. She sighed.

“Didn’t Carl tell you? His group and my group got themselves a bit in a pickle. The let’s kill each other on sight kind of pickle? No?” she shrugged. “Doesn’t matter,” she made an inviting gesture. “After you, I don’t have all day,” Carl stepped in front of the stranger.

“You can do with me whatever you want. Kill me, bring me to Negan, I don’t care, but let him go. He won’t bother any of you,” Emma looked Carl in the eyes, well eye, with a frown.

“That’s pretty dark of you, emo phase much?” she studied his face. Lots of determination, he was very collected, maybe a little forced doing so, and there was some hope she would cave in. Astonishingly little amount of bloodlust or hate, even defiance. Weird. “What is wrong with you?” she asked slowly. He stared back at her what felt very long without losing eye contact once. That kid was older than he looked. Then he lifted his shirt without warning. Emma nearly drew her gun. She stared down onto the mess. Well fuck. She palmed her face and made a gesture to Arat to let her gun down. The girl obeyed irritated.

“When did that happen?”

“Earlier,” Carl said. He was very calm. She would probably be lying somewhere curled up in a ball crying and cursing at the old gods and the new right now. She would be the first to admit that. Going out like that? That was one badass kid over there.

“What were you even doing out here. Jesus,” she palmed her face again. “Okay, go,” she said and made a shushing gesture. Arat was looking at her like her head was on fire. She hadn’t clued in that Carl had just shown her a bite on his abdomen. Carl was a bit confused, too.

“You are not taking me to Negan?”

“Why would I do that? So your father can blame us for your death, too? No chance in hell. Get the fuck outta here, don’t make me White Fang you,” he looked even more irritated. “That’s a book. You know what? Never mind. Just go,” she already turned away. Arat stood there and looked between her leaving and Carl, and ran after her.

“What the fuck?”

“Emma?” Emma groaned and turned around. She made a little impatient gesture to Carl. “Can I ask you something?” she was pissed and in a murdery mood, she should put him out of his misery and be done with it.

“What?” she asked instead, well, snapped.

“Did you kill them? The soldiers from the Kingdom,” she sighed.

“No. Well, one.”

“Why?”

“Because Ezekiel didn’t hear the message without a blood sacrifice.”

“No, I mean why didn’t you kill them?” Emma stared at him. What the hell was that now?

“How about that,” she lifted her gun. “I count to three and if you are not walking out of my sight by then I just open fire and see what happens, hm?” the other man now pulled on Carl’s sleeves and the boy reluctantly walked a couple of steps backward.

“The same reason you let Maggie and Sasha go. The same reason you let me go right now. The same reason you didn’t kill all those people although you could’ve. You are not like Negan. You are not like my Dad is now, or Maggie, or Carol. You still see the good. You know there can be an after, a together. You still have hope. They will see that, too,” well shit. Dying made Carl wise and philosophical. Emma palmed her face. “I am sure that at some point my Dad will offer the Saviors peace and I think you will take it,” Emma glared at him.

“I am not so sure about that, kid, and I am not the one who decides that,” she glanced over to Arat who had a weird frown on her face, turned around and stomped away. Arat closed the distance fast and did something that under these certain circumstances nearly led to her catching a bullet. She grabbed Emma’s arm. Emma turned around instead, seized Arat but her shirt and shoved her away roughly. Arat lifted her hands in a pacifying gesture. Emma scoffed and started walking again. The other woman followed with an eye roll.

“The hell was that?” she demanded to know.

“Kid got bit,” she just said.

“So? And what was that with letting Maggie and Sasha go?”

“Oh so now you decide to be smart and attentive,” Emma said sarcastically over her shoulder.

“Hey, I am just trying to understand the situation here. I am not your enemy. Talk to me,” Emma stopped and glared at the other woman. Fine.

“I don’t let them go, I just,” she made a vague hand gesture. “Decided to keep it for myself that I knew Maggie was still alive. Got my receipt for that one,” she lifted her right arm with the bandage. 

“I just don’t know what’s going on anymore with you. This morning you were ready to kill everyone, you were ready to kill everyone as of 10 minutes ago, and now you just let two of them go? Bite or not, we could have used him.”

“I’m a complicated person,” Arat rolled her eyes.

“Clearly,” she mustered her, and Emma felt assessed. Besides the mean remark earlier Arat _was_ smart. “You still on our side, right?” she asked in a low voice. Emma sighed.

“Of course I am, I’m just,” she sighed again and started walking. “I am not sure if that side is automatically Negan’s,” it was a bold move to admit that, Arat being her most loyal follower or not. “I don’t want to kill everybody. I don’t want to kill one, not really. Well, maybe Daryl. I just don’t think that Rick will ever stop. Or Maggie. Or Negan. Or Simon. This will end in blood and tears and with everything burning. This is out of control. And I obviously make stupid decisions when I am under pressure. So sue me,” she made a frustrated sound. She had stopped again and looked into the grey sky. It would be dark soon and they should get out of here. “You know what I thought when I joined Negan’s little project?” she asked flatly.

“No, but I thought you were batshit crazy. I still do,” Emma scoffed.

“I probably am. No, I thought that this,” she gestured around. “Will burn someday. This isn’t sustainable. This was bound to happen. So I just made the best out of the situation. Play along. Believe it or not, amputations are not something I love making a habit of. And I admit, being in charge is kind of satisfying and it isn’t like my life is uncomfortable. I thought when the time comes I do what I always did. I pack my shit and run. But no. I had to become involved and now this isn’t an option anymore. And we are in the middle of an all-out war and losing,” she exhaled deeply and looked at Arat who gnawed on her bottom lip.

“Is this because of Simon?”

“This isn’t just about Simon, mostly, but this is about you, Gary, Wade, Brandon, Laura, all the other sorry shits I actually call friends, even the workers. They trust us, put their lives in our hands,” Arat stared in the distance with an unreadable expression.

“You know,” she said flatly. “When push comes to shove. When there is a point when it means his decision or yours, a lot of us would rather follow you. And I mean a lot,” Emma’s eyes snapped to her. This was dangerously close to mutiny territory. “The workers, too,” Arat continued.

“We are not having that conversation,” Arat obviously decided that oh yes, they had. She looked Emma in the eyes.

“Because by the end of the day you are one of us, he isn’t. You make decisions for our good, he makes decisions only for himself,” okay, they entered mutiny territory with a marching band.

“Arat.”

“There was just never a better option. And there was always Simon. But he’s changed now. He’s way more adjusted. Calmer. And he worships the ground you're walking on, everyone can tell. He would pick you over him and it would cause him not a lot of pain. And you would be surprised how many of the ones not rooting for you would follow Simon,” and they took residence on mutinies market square. They were in the middle of nowhere and probably alone for miles, but Emma looked around because she was actually afraid someone might overhear Arat. And that would mean the girl was digging her own grave and probably hers, too, while she was at it. Okay, fuck it.

“So what exactly is that now? What are you suggesting here? That we hand Negan over and surrender? I’ll be the new Negan, everyone is happy?” Arat grinned a little.

“Now, now, you said that, not me,” bitch. Emma palmed her face.

“Negan’s good to me. Good to Simon. Good to you guys,” she said flatly. Cunning little asshole. Who knew?

“I don’t say he didn’t make our life better when he took over. He did a lot for everyone. But I don’t know. You said it. His way ain’t working anymore. This is out of control. _He_ is out of control,” Arat said nearly nonchalantly. What the hell was it that she and the boys discussed behind closed doors? “And as of Simon, he uses him, and then he uses what he did against him. Always has. That’s why he is so pissed that Simon is nearly pacifistic at the moment.”

“Careful now,” she warned. No need to necessarily drag Simon into this. Although Arat wasn’t wrong here. She mustered her for a long time who just stood there a poster child of innocence. “No,” Emma said suddenly. “Even if, which is a big if, Rick won’t go for that or Maggie. We never had that conversation and I never let the kid go,” Arat made a little head jerk.

“What conversation and what kid?” she started walking. Emma felt the urge to kick her ass. An hour later they stepped out of the woods to their trucks. Brandon was relieved that they made it.

“Took you long enough,” he snapped. This was basically his way of showing love. “It’s getting late, we should move,” Emma was not opposing that. Arat had given her food for thought and Emma glared into the night.

Their truck got t-boned out of nowhere and Emma’s world turned upside down. It was simply coincidence she had put on a seatbelt. That and maybe Simon’s conditioning. The Ford turned over and made two summersaults before it came to a stop on its roof. Next to her Arat cursed rather creatively while Brandon asked if everyone was okay. By the gurgling sounds coming from the backseat, Josh wasn’t the lucky one here. She tried to open the seatbelt, but it wouldn’t work and for a second she was out of ideas how to proceed. Meanwhile, gunfire had erupted, but judging by the lack of ricochets their second truck drew all the fire. Brandon appeared next to her. He was outside of the truck, how did he get there? He simply cut the seatbelt with his knife. That was smart. She should have thought about that. With a thud, she landed on her shoulder which snapped her out of the little shock she had been in and led to a string of curses that would have made a sailor blush. Brandon heaved her out and behind the relative safety of the car. Arat was pulling on her rifle that got stuck in the mess that was the driver cabin. Josh wouldn’t survive this, one short look confirmed that. Fucking hell. Emma pulled the Kimber Pro and carefully peeked around the chassis. It was Rick, Daryl and three others, Kingdom soldiers by the looks of it, and they had Kathy, Jason and Keno pinned down behind the second truck. For a second she wondered if that were soldiers from the Chem Plant, that they somehow had found a way to get out, but most likely these were three from the seven who had stayed behind in the Kingdom. They fired hard on her guys, who tried to retaliate. Kathy got shot in the shoulder and went down. Keno was out of ammo, Jason, too. Arat was still trying too free the rifle and Emma had no free shot.

“We surrender,” she shared a look with Brandon. “We surrender,” Jason repeated. He knelt above Kathy and tried to stop the bleeding. Daryl and Rick fanned out to go to the other side of the truck, while the Kingdom soldiers moved into their direction. Emma had no idea whom of them just hit them and if there were more people. Shit shit shit.

“We surrender,” Jason repeated a third time. He was now looking in Daryl’s and Rick’s rifles. They mowed them down. For very long seconds Emma just stared in shock. They had surrendered. They had been unarmed. Mechanically she got up. Brandon tried to pull her down. Rick and Daryl had still their backs to them and the three Kingdom soldiers weren’t as trigger happy. One of them yelled to her to put down the gun. Emma could see very clearly now, everything was like in slow motion. She probably never shot with that much precision, three shots, three clean holes in three foreheads. Daryl and Rick and turned around, already firing before they even aimed at her. Instead of turning her into Sonny from the Godfather their spurts ripped open the flank of Simon's Dodge. Gary and some others got out and started firing back, but they were uncoordinated and too far away, and Rick and Daryl already disappeared into the woods. Simon’s guys went after them anyway. The man himself got out of the car as well with a rifle in his hand. He looked like a hero from a B action movie. He made some gestures to the other Saviors and they spread out.

“You alright?” he asked her when he walked over. Arat and Brandon got up and stood next to her awkwardly. “Nice to save you for a change, Cuddle Bug,” he grinned but got serious when he arrived. He pulled her into a little hug and pressed a kiss on her head. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “And Cuddle Bug is a no,” he chuckled and stepped away.

“The fuck happened here?”

“We got ambushed. Assholes killed them although they surrendered,” she pressed out “Goddamn savages,” she was pissed. Really pissed. This was not necessary. This was an amount of violence and murder totally out of proportion. Simon sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, the widow, Maggie, doesn’t seem to be in a pliant mood either. They have some of us, though. Seemed that at least a couple of the Satellite Outpost guys were luckier than Jason,” he walked over to the three and looked down on the carnage. Then he took his knife and put it in Kathy’s temple. By the sound of it, Brandon was doing the same with Josh. Emma looked over to Arat.

“It would never work out even if we tried.”


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negan opens the Kings eyes. Emma needs to get her shit together.

The King looked like Simon had decided to reshape the geography of his face with a sledgehammer. His nose was most definitely broken, probably a couple of times, his left eye looked swollen enough that he possibly needed a drainage and the way he held his mouth open chances were high he had a broken jaw. Emma couldn’t find it in her to feel pity, although it wasn’t him doing what Rick and Maggie were doing. Mostly Maggie by the looks of it. Negan looked at him with his chin up over the crook of his nose, the cold eyes assessing the man in front of him. The moans and hisses of a roamer in the box on the table were the only sounds in the room for a while.

“That’s one of my guys. Or was,” Negan said. “Apparently he surrendered. He and 38 others,” the King slid around on his chair a bit. He wasn’t stupid, he knew where this was heading. “So your new allies, the Widow, in particular, decided to send him to me in a fucking box with a fucking bow, although, since of yesterday she is well aware that we could return the favor 46 times with you being the big prize. But I am guessing you and your subjects are just fucking cannon fodder for her and Rick,” Ezekiel looked from Negan to the box and back to Negan. He didn’t have anything to say to that. Emma hoped that he remembered that this had been her words exactly, back in the Hilltop. The whole thing here was a well-staged play to get under the Kings skin and maybe pull him back on their side. Unlike Gregory he was well liked among his people and chances were high that they would do what he said.

“Are you even aware with whom you went to bed? Yesterday your new best pal Rick and his pet redneck killed three of my guys although they also fucking surrendered and one was an injured woman. And I am afraid to tell you that the only price they paid was blood in form of three dead guys of yours,” Ezekiel found his hands really interesting.

“They were workers in the Outposts. I get you wanna kill me, Simon, Emma, hell even Gavin. But my soldiers and my workers? They just do whatever the fuck we tell ‘em. You of all people with your little royal setup must understand that. I don’t say that most of them aren’t fucking assholes, but Jesus, what you guys are doing to them? That’s just fucking breathtaking,” he glanced over to Gabriel who sat there with bloodshot eyes and generally looked like he belonged into a bed. His short, inglorious escape had cost them the doc. Negan was not happy about that.

“Well, now I understand that when we found you and took your little community more or less over or when Em cut off your resident asshole’s arm that was some sort of fucking tragedy for you, but the shit that went down on the Outposts? Wow. There was a little baby, just six months old. I wonder what happened to her. And a girl, barely 18, went through some shit that would break a man like me and just pulled herself out of the muck, never hurt anybody, pregnant, too. Emma had to put her down since your asshole plan from your asshole buddies killed her and not in an easy way. And then Emma had to do some really unspeakable shit to make sure the kid was dead as well. What part of the fucking bible is that, Gabe?” The man flinched a bit. He looked like a guy whose faith just got shaken down to the core.

“What is it that you want?” Ezekiel asked flatly and barely audible. Negan scoffed.

“What I want, your fucking royal highness is your head on a spike on the fence and your 44 soldiers lined up next to you. But this isn’t about what I want. This is about what I need. What I need is you dropping that goddamn honor, valor, sacrifice act of yours and tell me who in the holy hell feeds you information. What I need is you telling the 70 something underlings of yours that are currently holed up at the Hilltop to fucking surrender, and contrary to Rick and the Widow I know what that means and will act on it accordingly. What I need is you finally realizing that the way it was before, the way before Rick, was the better one. I ain’t gonna lie. It’ll never be like before. We will take you on a short rein, not you, of course, you will be dead, but your people. Everybody else lives. That is more than you can hope for now,” like on cue Simon got up and started to open the box with a hammer. He gave the lit a little shove and it fell on the table with a loud thud.

“That’s Dean,” Simon stated. The dead tried to get up. Negan and Emma got up, too.

“I let that sink in a little,” Negan said and shouldered Lucille. With that he walked out, followed by Emma and Simon who let the hammer drop on the table. They stood outside the war room and listened for a while to the sounds of struggle. The odds were high the King and the priest would die now, they weren’t in the best of shapes and the priest could barely see. Emma leaned against a wall and sighed. Negan looked her up and down.

“I would appreciate a little more fucking enthusiasm,” she kind of glared at him. Everyone was pissed and tense. The Alexandrians had gotten away. Emma hadn’t been on board with the idea of some of the Saviors forming roadblocks around the community in the first place, but Negan had insisted. They had been ambushed and overran. Exactly what Emma had predicted what would happen. The Militia was pretty strong with their guerilla bullshit, that outcome had been inevitable. Pinning them down on the Hilltop was maybe not the only, but the best plan, and now Emma got her way, but it had cost them 14 more people, Laura among them. The only one gotten away was Dwight. Of all people, Dwight.

“He doesn’t know who’s the mole,” Emma was sure of that. The assholes hadn’t even let the man in in all their plans. Maybe that was smart, so he couldn’t spill the beans if captured, like right now, but she wouldn’t trust people as far as she could shit them if they kept stuff like that from her, let alone follow them into war. “And your highness is just for princes and princesses, a king is addressed as your majesty,” Negan made a little weird head tilt and Simon had to smile a bit.

“Thanks for the fucking lesson,” he said after a while with an eye-roll.

“Anytime.”

On the other side of the door was nothing but silence now. Simon shrugged and opened it, his hand ready on his gun. The priest cowered in a corner with his knees up against his chest while the King sat against a wall, breathing heavily, the bloody hammer in his hands. What was left of Dean laid spread out over the table. He had bashed his head in. Negan strolled over to the King and crouched down. He just stared into the man’s broken face.

“I don’t know,” Emma gave Simon a look. “I swear,” Negan palmed his beard and sighed disappointedly.

“And the other thing?” The King sighed.

“I can try,” he said softly.

“That’s all I’m asking for,” Negan made a gesture with his finger and Simon pulled the King up. Emma followed both to the infirmary. Now with the doc gone she with her field first aid training was the closest they had to a medic. The King endured the examination of his face with stoic serenity. Emma reduced his nose without any warning and he groaned.

“You couldn’t have been, I don’t know, a little less thorough?” she asked Simon over her shoulder when she cleaned the little gash on Ezekiel’s brow. Simon shrugged.

“Well, Pumpkin turns out the King has a very fragile bone structure. I barely touched him,” Simon said dead serious. Emma turned to him with a frown.

“That’s not a no, but you can do better,” she turned back. “I don’t think the jaw is broken after all,” she said mostly to herself when she let her fingers run over his jaw joints and the bone. They needed to make him look halfway presentable when they wanted to droop him in front of the Hilltop. “How many teeth did you lose,” the King looked her in the eyes. There was no defiance, no proud, just sad resignation

“Three,” he said, and Emma shot Simon another look.

“Barely touched him, huh?” she said without heat in her voice. “Make yourself useful, get me the ice spray,” for a couple of second Simon just silently observed the medicine cabinet and then he lazily pushed himself away from the doorframe and fetched the requested item.

“Here you go. How do you feel about Peach?” He resumed his loitering position in the doorframe.

“You’re going through the produce department? Open your mouth,” she sprayed his gum with the ice spray and leaned back.

“So I figure Cherry is a no as well. Freckles then?” the King was obviously irritated by the absurd conversation since his eyes flicked between her and Simon, and a little frown had taken residence between his brow.

“I don’t even have Freckles,” she opened the fridge and took an icepack out of it.

“Not in your face,” Simon grinned smugly, and Emma smacked her lips when she let herself drop back on the little chair in front of the King.

“Anyway,” the King took the offered icepack hesitantly and put it on his eye. “One time offer for some killer pain meds? When you find it in you to trust me enough to take two plain white pills?” she shook a little bottle. “It’s actually just Advil, but the strong kind,” the King nodded tersely, and Emma shook two pills in his hand. Simon and she watched him struggle to swallow one dry until he rolled his eyes annoyed.

“I’m gonna get you some water. Nobody can watch that. Don’t try anything, Your Majesty, Hot Stuff over there is well versed in self-defense, too,” he said with a chuckle and left the room. The King let the hand with the icepack sink and Emma pushed it gently back.

“Keep ‘em coming, Zeke,” she encouraged him.

“Why are you even doing this, Negan will kill me anyway,” he said softly. Emma sighed.

“No need to let you suffer unnecessarily until then,” he scoffed a bit and pressed the ice pack on his eye again.

“Why beating me up then in the first place,” she looked at him with pursed lips.

“Does it occur to you that maybe you kind of deserved it?” he tried to glare at her and she stayed unimpressed. ”What were your intentions at the Chem Plant? What exactly did you and your people plan on doing there?” his eyes dropped onto his lap. “That’s what I thought,” they sat opposite from each other awkwardly and Emma wondered from where Simon got the water, the nearest lake?

“I think I misjudged you,” he said without looking at her. “I thought you were crazy, a lunatic, a sadist,” nice.

“What gave you that idea?” the dismemberment? The elaborate threat to kill all his soldiers and let them eat his people? Her careless audacity in the face of nearly certain death? All of the above?

“But I see now that there is method to the madness. A ploy, nothing else. A good one. Probably even Negan can’t see past it,” he looked her in the eyes. “Is it hard to be that way all the time? You must be tired of it by now,” Emma looked taken aback a little and was about to say something when Simon came back with a bottle of water. By the looks of it, he was well aware that he just interrupted something, but he didn’t say anything.

“Come one then. You’re in luck. You can go horizontal for a while in one of our nicer cells. You even got a window. You could use some rest before you speak to your people this afternoon,” he said and tugged a bit on Ezekiel’s sleeve. After fucking him up once Simon obviously had decided that he had suffered enough, no need to bully him around even more. That was a bit out of character for the man. Arat had been right with her observation that he was overall calmer and more adjusted in comparison to a couple of months ago. The beating had been an order, and to be honest, Emma had seen guys coming out of one of Simon’s patented whippings in a way worse shape than Ezekiel. Broken nose and teeth aside, Simon had gone easy on him. The King got up and shot her one last look before he walked out of the infirmary. Emma palmed her face. What the actual fuck. She had to get a fucking grip onto herself since obviously everyone could see her façade crumble. Simon already had caught on, she could see the little doubtful frowns that flashed over his face every time she suggested something in the vicinity of total annihilation, followed by contemplating looks and 100-yard stares. Arat knew, obviously, probably Gary, too and who knows who else since her people were apparently close to conspiring behind the big wigs’ backs. Carl had seen it, and now the King. The last thing she fucking needed was Negan questioning her loyalty and going all suspicious on her right now. 


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negan goes missing. Emma runs in an old friend.

Emma was gnawing on the back of her thumb while she stared out of the window of Simon’s Dodge. He was not amused about the bullet holes on the side and had been even less amused about Emma stating that they did give the car character. The King sat between them, Arat, Wade and Brandon in the back and there was so much tense silence in the cabin that Emma wanted to take it and strangle someone with it, preferably the King.

“That’s like an awkward family trip,” Wade suddenly said.

“Shut up or I swear to God I turn this car around,” was Simon’s dead serious answer which brought a smile on Emma’s face that disappeared immediately. She sighed and looked over to the King who just stared into the air in front of him. That wouldn’t work. Emma was convinced of that. It maybe would drive a wedge between the communities, though, this would be a start. But overall their next step would be to kill off prisoners and start the terrorizing. Simon and Negan had some pretty fucked up ideas on how to achieve that and Emma had put some thoughts into it herself. Let’s see how they would hold up when the Saviors would start throwing the undead heads of their loved ones over that fences or the burning corpses of the 17 horses that currently slacked off in the otherwise abandoned Kingdom. Pull all the Rose Wars classics. Suddenly there was a crash, a loud screeching sound and then the truck behind them seemingly went out of control, swerved around dangerously and finally hit a wall, turned to the side, toppled over, and slid a couple of feet until it got stuck in the small alley. So much for taking the safe route to the Hilltop. Simon cursed and hit the brakes. The cars in front of them hadn’t caught up yet and merrily drove on, so Simon blared the horn. Emma already had gotten out of the car. The passenger side door was pushed open and Gary climbed out. He looked a bit pale.

“You alright?” she asked him when he climbed, well, flopped down. He was bleeding from a cut on his eyebrow.

“Yeah, hit the side window. It’s nothing. Kevin’s unconscious. The shit airbag was useless, basically punched him in the face,” Emma looked at the cut that wasn’t bad indeed while Simon already climbed up to get Kevin out of there.

“The fuck happened?” Emma asked him, and he shrugged.

“Don’t know. Felt like something hit us,” Simon called for some help and Wade climbed up, too.

“The wall is blocking the doors. We can’t get them out,” Arat suddenly said next to Emma who found the statement random until she clued in. There were people in the back of the truck.

“Are they alright, too?” Arat shrugged.

“No one’s dead, but Tim says Aaron’s arm is broken with the bone out,” shit. That meant they had to hurry before he went into shock or lost his arm. Emma went into leader mode.

“Alright,” she walked to the other trucks where the Saviors dutifully waited for some orders. “What tools do we have?”

“We got some chainsaws and rope,” one guy answered. They always had stuff like that with them, in case they encountered an obstacle like fallen trees or wanted to create an obstacle like fallen trees.

“Stupid question. Can chainsaws cut through metal?” the guy shrugged.

“Yeah, shouldn’t be hard. It’s just sheet metal,” he pointed at the truck.

“Okay, then we do just that. Cut a hole in the side,” it was more like the roof now. “Get our guys out. And some of you establish a perimeter. I don’t have a fucking clue what’s going on here, but if Rick ain’t a part of it I would be surprised,” she turned back to the truck where Gary now helped Simon and Wade to lower down a half-conscious Kevin. They sat him on the ground. He looked confused, but overall he would probably live. Wade jumped down, too, a worried frown on his face. Kevin was his guy and he basically had lost all of his guys already, he didn’t want to lose some more.

“Uhm, Emma?” she looked up. Simon stood on the driver cabin like he had conquered the K2 and stared in the back of the alley. “Negan formed the rear, right?”

“Yeah? Why?”

“He’s gone,” Simon went into leader mode as well. “Fuck,” he climbed down and walked to the truck and took some rifles out. He shoved one into the hands of Emma.

“Everybody listen!” he said loudly which got him the attention of everyone. “It appears that our fearless leader might be in a pickle. So some of us will go and look for him while the priorities of the rest should be getting our guys out of that truck and maybe not get killed while doing so,” he shoved the remaining rifles into the hands of Gary, Dwight, Wade, and Alexander, one of Simon’s favorites. “That’s Gavin’s show now. So you listen to him as long as we’re gone. When we aren’t back in an hour, don’t wait for us. You will all get into these cars and get the hell back to the Sanctuary. A nice and tight convoy. And keep an eye on the King, we cannot afford to lose him, too. Understood?” Gavin rubbed his face.

“Okay, sounds,” he made a break. “Reasonable,” he came a bit closer. “But do you think it’s smart that you both go? What if,” he paused again. Simon raised an eyebrow.

“What if what?”

“What if Negan’s dead and you ran straight into an ambush?” Simon grinned at Gavin’s worry gleefully.

“Then the Saviors are yours. But don’t you worry. It’s Negan and besides, the best the Sanctuary has to offer is coming for help,” he checked the mag of the rifle and looked at Emma. “I meant Emma and me by the way. Ready? Then let’s go and find our bossman?”

“To the rescue,” she said and with that, they moved out. The first hindrance was the stuck truck and Emma looked at Simon a mix of impatience and amusement when he nearly lifted her down the other side like a proper gentleman. They didn’t need to investigate for long until they found the car.

“You think t-boning people constantly might messed with Rick’s head?” Wade asked after they had peeked into both wrecks. No Negan, no surprises. Simon scoffed.

“I think something fucked up that head a long time ago,” they looked around. “Shit. They could be anywhere. Hate to beat that horror movie trope, but I think we have to split up.”

“Whoever did this could have taken him,” Alex suggested, and Simon shook his head.

“Nah, this was them and they always will go in for the kill first and knowing Negan they went after each other,” he looked at Emma and sighed. “Any chance of you teaming up with me?”

“Nope, you take Alex, I take Gary, Dwight can have Wade.”

“Yay,” Wade said and everyone just sort of glared at him.

“Fine,” Simon said annoyed. “We check out that building. You go down the alley, and Dwight and Wade you go up left. We meet in an hour back here, or if one of us runs into trouble, back at the Sanctuary. You better not die, I mean it,” he said to her and to her surprise gave her a small peck on the lips nonchalantly enough that you could get the impression that was something he did. Then he walked to the abandoned factory he was talking about without any further ado. Gary actually grinned at her.

“Shut up,” Gary followed her laughing.

“I wasn’t saying anything,” he said innocently, and Emma shot him a mock glare. 15 minutes later they had taken cover on the roof of a garage while Gary observed a gathering of roamers maybe a hundred yards away through his monocular. A fancy thing Emma someday would borrow to never give it back again.

“Yeah, they are definitely riled up by something. Maybe 20, 25.”

“Does it look like they are feeding?”

“No, not really,” she sighed.

“We have to make sure,” she climbed down the roof. “Keep an eye out on them for me?”

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for something long and pointy,” with that she tested the rollgate of the garage and to her surprise, it basically snapped open making a lot of noise. She was lucky she wasn’t greeted by some roamers on the other side but an empty garage with a lot of clatter.

“If you wanted to draw their attention you managed that just fine. Whatever you're doing you better hurry to get your ass back up here,” Gary called out. Emma’s luck had no boundaries today. She closed the gate again. The roamers were maybe just 20 yards away, but they were slow. The heat kind of saw to that. Gary pulled her up.

“Neat,” he said to the pitchfork in her hand. “Do you wanna or shall I?”

“I start you finish. Come on, let’s make some noise,” after ten minutes the last of them dropped to the ground and Gary looked at the blood and brain stained fork with disgust.

“I hate that shit,” he mumbled. After waiting a couple more minutes to see if they didn’t draw in more of the dead they climbed down, carefully stepped over the pile of corpses and walked to the building, a ramshackle residence home by the looks of it. Gary hit his gun against the frame of the door.

“No one home,” Emma shrugged, and they walked in their guns ready and on high alert. The building was empty except for some freshly killed walkers, although Emma wouldn’t really apply the term fresh to the mess.

“Looks like this was Lucille to you?” Gary nodded.

“Yeah, so he was here. At least he’s not dead. So what now?” she looked at her watch.

“Follow the trail as long as it’s warm? We gonna miss our ride. Come on,” they left the building through the back door since it was unlikely that Negan walked out the dead infested front door and followed a narrow alley for a while that opened onto a parking lot. Great. He could have gone anywhere from here. Gary sighed.

“He ain’t an idiot. He will go back to the Sanctuary, too,” he said leaving the if he is still alive unspoken. It hung between them nonetheless. But overall Emma was confident he still was kicking and probably half-way to the Sanctuary already, pissed off and in need of a shower. It was Negan after all.

“We can make it to the rally point when we run, or we just keep walking down that road to the interstate. We can be back home in three hours, four tops, less when we find a car that works,” Emma said, and Gary just shrugged. They would walk, no need in doubling back and risk coming too late. Would just be a waste of time and energy. They walked in amicable silence for maybe two hours, Gary way more alert than Emma. That was one of the best things about the man, he basically never let his guard down. That’s why it was he who heard them first.

“Do you hear that?” Emma listened up. First, she didn’t know what he meant, then it came to her. The faint but increasingly louder noise of a shuffling herd. Well, fuck. They darted into another street and peeked around a corner.

“Fuck me, that’s a big one” Gary mumbled. “They are coming straight at us. Doubling back or sitting this one out?” Emma sighed.

“Sitting this one out I guess,” judging by the speed of the herd sitting out would take a lot of time, but so would large-scale circumventing the herd. She looked around the street. She knew it well. “There is a two-story dance studio two blocks down that is pretty secure. Simon and I checked it out a couple of weeks back when we were looking for potential safe houses. We bolted the back entrance and the front, but you can still go in over the fire escape,” Gary looked at her weird. “What?” he shook his head.

“No, sounds good. Lead the way, boss,” they made it to the studio unbothered despite the growing herd on their backs and Emma pulled the ladder up after they climbed it. Gary was already inside probably checking if the place was still clear. He stuck his hand out of the window and gave her a thumbs-up. The most part of the second floor was one great dancefloor with mirrors on the wall. Emma eyed herself up and down, it actually been a while since she could see her whole body in a mirror. Really not bad what she was seeing, although her legs looked like she was a clumsy 6-year-old with all that scrapes and bruises.

“You’re done checking your make-up?” Gary asked from the leather sofa that stood on a wall. He had popped his feet up on a coffee table that contained a lot of dusted magazines.

“Does this short make my ass look fat?” she asked, and he scoffed.

“I wasn’t gonna bring it up, but since you asked. It totally does,” she flipped him off while she walked over and flopped next to him.

“What was that look earlier?”

“What look?”

“The weird head-tilt with the frown you made when I told you about the place?” Gary chuckled a bit.

“Nothing, I was just surprised to hear you and Simon are actually working when you leave for one of your little trips,” Emma clicked her tongue.

“What is it you think we are doing? That we go out and find us a nice, cozy place to screw each other’s brain out? Loudly?”

“Pretty much.”

“Well, who says we are not doing both,” she gave the sofa a pointed look and nearly laughed out loud on Gary’s expression of horror before he jumped up from the couch. “I’m just messing with you, sit down,” he glared at her but sat down nevertheless. Now he pouted.

“Tell me, Gary. Anyone special at the Sanctuary I should know about? Some lucky girl?” she lowered her voice. “Or boy?”

“Aw come on,” Emma chuckled.

“No seriously, though. No one? You are quite the catch,” Gary just scoffed humorlessly.

“That’s a very personal question, don’t you think?” he said with a little smirk. “What would you think if I’d asked you personal questions?”

“I would be delighted. I can talk about personal shit all day?”

“Yeah? So how big is Simon’s dick? I am asking for all of us, by the way. Huge conversation starter this question,” Emma wasn’t missing a beat.

“Pretty much what you would expect from a guy that large. Didn’t exactly made me drop my jaw when I first saw it, though it does hurt sometimes,” Gary stared at her with that unimpressed face of his.

“I should have known that you would answer this,” he said flatly. Then he sighed. “There is actually one girl that caught my eye, but I will not pursue anything.”

“Why not,” he looked her straight in the face.

“Because I don’t want to get the iron to the face.”

“Oh,” she just said. “Which one?”

“Does it matter?”

“Probably not. Which one, though?” he sighed again.

“Michaela,” he finally mumbled. The black chick whose boyfriend she had killed. There was a joke somewhere that Emma for once wasn’t making.

“I kind of feel sorry for you now.”

“Shut up,” suddenly they heard the sound of broken glass. They shared an alarmed look, and both got up with their guns ready. The pressed to the wall and Emma took a careful peek around the doorframe into the adjacent room.

“Oh fuck,” she said barely audible for herself and showed Gary four of her fingers. He got tight-lipped and grabbed his gun tighter.

“We stay here till they pass,” she could hear Morgan say,

“That’s a big one. Might take us a while,” great. Tara was here, too. Emma peeked around the corner again. And Michonne and some kid. The same kid that had been with the Kingdom when the drop had turned into a shitshow. Fuck. Four against two. She didn’t like the odds. Emma blew some air into her bangs and leaned back to think about their next move when her gaze fell on the wall with the huge ass mirrors and she realized that she was looking straight into Michonne’s eyes.

“We can see you, you know,” the other woman said. Emma let her hands fall down to her sides and groaned annoyed. Then she chuckled a bit. That was going really well here for them. And it was funny somehow. “Put your guns down and step around the corner, both of you,” Michonne said calmly. She had a rifle, but Emma was more worried about that scary as fuck katana in her hand.

“Fine,” Emma showed her the rifle and threw it on the floor. Then she unfastened the handgun that followed quickly. Gary did the same. So this was how she would die. A little disappointing, she always imagined going out in a blaze of glory. She pushed herself away from the wall and stepped into the other room, Gary behind her.

“We really need to stop meeting like that,” she said in a friendly tone. Tara had her gun trimmed right into her face, but overall she looked more insecure than trigger happy which was a huge difference to last time.

“We are not here to fight,” Morgan said. Emma just scoffed.

“Little late for that. So did you guys get him?” Michonne looked confused.

“Get who?”

“Negan,” she shared a look with Morgan and Tara and then actually put that katana away. Emma lifted her eyebrow to that.

“That was Rick, he thought,” she gathered herself. “He got away.”

“So Rick had the chance to kill him and failed? Again? Do you guys ever considered that you, I don’t know, suck at killing Negan?” Something about Tara’s nervous looks triggered something in Emma’s memory and suddenly

“Holy shit. I remember you. You were one of the assholes that went after the prison. Oh my God, the irony. You hypocritic bitch. Waltzing around pretending to fight the good fight. Guess I have to thank you for screwing up my perfect eyesight,” Tara paled a bit on that. Morgan stepped in front of her. He lifted his hands.

“Like I said. We are not here to fight,” Emma frowned at him, then at Gary, and back to Morgan.

“So when the herd passes you just let us go?” she suggested half-jokingly.

“Yes,” he stated much to the surprise of everybody else, mostly his own people. Emma’s frown deepened.

“Why?” he made a little shrug.

“You got me my stick back,” Emma tilted her head.

“Did you just make a joke?”

“Maybe,” Emma decided it was time to test the 'we are not here to fight' statement and sauntered to the end of the room with a little seating area and yet more magazines. She sat down. Gary stared at her incredulous and she rolled her eyes. No one had tried to murder her, so far so good.

“Sit down Gary. This is Gary by the way, in case something goes South, and you kill us you have a name for a change,” Gary gave their guns a near longing look and then waltzed over with just a little bit of faked bravado and sat down pissed off. Emma smirked at him.

“So what is it then that you are doing out here if it’s not trying to pick fights?” she looked over to Tara who still had her gun aimed at her. This was going to get on Emma’s nerves.

“Carl’s dead,” Michonne said and Emma sighed.

“I figured. My condolences,” she nearly sounded sincere here. But seriously, dying from a bite always sucked. The kid might have been an overconfident asshole, but he hadn’t deserved that. No one deserved that.

“He told us that he met you in the woods,” funny that the boy had time for that anecdote. Her eyes darted to Gary who didn’t look the least surprised. Oh, she would so kill Arat nice and slow.

“And what has that to do with you being here? Was his last wish that you spread his ashes on the junction of Main and Ashland?”

“He wrote a letter to Negan. We,” she paused. She had a hard time here. Carl and she had been close in the prison and had probably been even closer now. Emma almost felt pity. “Delivered it,” Emma looked mostly confused now.

“You brought him the letter? And seriously Tara, put that gun down, this is really irritating,” Tara actually followed that request. Michonne palmed her face. Emma suspected that she secretly removed some tears with the gesture.

“I read it to him,” she lifted a radio. It was one of theirs. Emma had to admit that that made sense.

“And what on earth could a 15-year-old have to say that warrants you getting close enough to the Sanctuary that odds are high you gonna get yourself killed?” Michonne whipped out the letter and suddenly Emma had it in her face. She was staggered, to say the least. Reluctantly she took it. Carl’s handwriting was messy, but that was no surprise, he probably hadn’t been writing per hand in years, hell he probably never learned proper handwriting in the first place. Emma skimmed the words with quick flicks of her eyes. Shit. The kid had been smarter and more insightful than she had thought. She sighed and folded the letter back.

“What did he say?”  she asked flatly.

“He said no. That winning means killing all of us and starting over,” Emma didn’t let it show, but that was new. This morning he was still advocating the make them surrender and then we enslave them propaganda. Whatever had gone down with Rick had changed that.

“Can you blame him? This is what you want, too.”

“That’s not what we want,” Emma rolled her eyes.

“Oh, let me rephrase that,” she couldn’t help that she slipped a bit into Simon’s accent. He said that a lot. “That’s maybe not what you want, but that’s what Rick wants, and Maggie, and with all respect? I don’t really think you assholes have a say in that,” she crossed her arms and leaned back.

“They will come to their senses,” Emma scoffed.

“Yeah? When? Rick’s basically out on a rampage, Daryl, too and Maggie sends us dead people in boxes. That doesn’t exactly feel like coming to their senses to me,” Michonne sighed and sat on the last empty chair.

“That was a mistake, Maggie killing one of the prisoners.”

“Yeah no shit,” Emma scoffed. She stared at Tara like the woman had just grown a second head when she sat next to her on the two-seater sofa. “Morgan. Will be a tight fit, but you can squeeze yourself in here, too,” Tara looked at her blankly then she realized that she was sitting pretty close to Emma and slid away. Emma shared an incredulous look with Gary who shrugged irritated. When did they become friends here?

“Carl thought there could be peace,” Emma scoffed.

“And in the grand scheme of shit how important is Carl’s opinion exactly? He probably didn’t even know what that is, peace, since every time I ran into you guys it doesn’t take long and you are in a vicious war with some big bad and everything goes to shit. Seriously, it’s like bullet Christmas with you people the whole fucking year,” Michonne had to actually smile on that.

“You are not wrong there,” she said softly. “I’m just tired of fighting.”

“You are preaching to the choir,” Emma huffed out. Everyone sat or stood around for a while to the sounds of the passing herd downstairs brooding over their own thoughts despite Gary who looked really irritated by the situation.

“But I guess it doesn’t matter what we want anyway,” Michonne suddenly said. “Negan wants us all dead, Rick and Maggie want you all dead, so I guess tomorrow we all go back to killing each other.”

“Sounds about right,” Emma said in a suspicious tone. It wasn’t like she actually knew Michonne, but she got the impression that the woman was up to something here.

“Although there would be another way,” she said absently.

“I’m listening.”

“It’s Negan we want,” Emma scoffed. Of course, but like things were now it wouldn’t stop there. That was the reason she said

“And I just stopped listening,” Michonne looked at her.

“The offer still stands, hand over Negan and surrender,” she said. and Emma shook her head annoyed.

“Wow, it’s like the first part of our conversation hasn’t happened. _You_ might think this will end things, but I doubt that will change anything. Rick is relentless, Maggie only wants revenge and whatever is wrong with Daryl, and I don’t want to know how many more of your people, of the people of the Hilltop and the Kingdom hold grudges against us. Or tell me, Tara, that you don’t want Dwight’s head for what he did to your girlfriend,” Tara’s eyes fell into her lap and she looked flustered.

“I,” she started. “I really don’t know,” she said softly. Emma huffed an irritated laugh.

“And that is just you. There are still us. You slaughtered my people. Are you even aware how many boyfriends and girlfriend, sisters and brother, fathers and sons, mothers, and daughters you just killed? You murdered innocents there, kids. And they weren’t collaterals of war, this was a massacre,” Michonne looked up.

“The baby is at the Hilltop,” she said softly. Well, that was good to hear, but also

“Oh that’s fantastic, let me applaud you for not murdering a fucking six months old infant. I wish I could say the same about the pregnant teenager. You want Negan? Go and get him yourself, but rest assured, you need to go through a lot of people to get to him, and one will be me,” she glanced on Tara’s gun. “Unless you kill us here and now, but I kind of hope you won’t.”

“We won’t,” Morgan said. He sounded sad and tired. They all looked sad and tired. “You have my word,” let’s hope that meant something.

“Maybe we should sit the herd out in different ends of the room,” Emma suggested impudently. She was really testing the boundaries of that awkward truce they had when she got up and walked to the other side. Gary followed. He gave their guns another look, and Emma shook her head. She stared out of the window for a while.

“Looks like it won’t be much longer,” she mumbled.

“Yeah, you really think they will let us go, just like that?” Emma shrugged.

“Yeah, because they are a fucking mess, and they owe me that much,” Gary frowned at her and she rolled her eyes at his thickness. “The kid? Carl?”

“Oh.”

“Did Arat just bounced into you and told you that?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged.

“What else did she tell you,” Gary made a head jerk.

“Pretty much the same you just told them. That you think this won’t work.”

“Jesus,” she palmed her face. “What do you think?” and was she casual discussing mutiny here? Again? Gary sighed.

“I think if someone can convince them to make peace it’s you,” seemed like she was. Emma made a frustrated sound and proceeded to stare away the herd. She finally was successful after 20 minutes that felt like 67 years. They parted ways with Michonne, Morgan and the other two in a weird guns-versus-the-letter exchange. Or at least Emma tried to exchange the letter.

“Keep it,” Michonne said.

“What for?”

“It’s not for me.”

“It’s not for me either,” Michonne shrugged and walked away. Emma groaned but put the letter in her back pocket. She wondered if Gary was contemplating of shooting them in their backs since he stared after them with a frown on his face. She gave his upper arm a little jab.

“Come on, let’s go home,” she managed to say that rather high-spirited when all she wanted to groan was fuck my life.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That escalated quickly

They hotwired a car that had just enough gas left to carry them back to the Sanctuary. Gary was shooting her awkward little side glances while he steered it through the night. He probably should pay more attention to the road since one of the headlights was busted.

“So, Negan’s back at the Sanctuary?” he asked conversationally. Emma scoffed.

“You heard her, didn’t you? Of course, he’s back at the Sanctuary,” she looked out of the window distracted. That bloody letter was burning its way through her back pocket.

“You are thinking about taking the offer, don’t you?” Emma turned to Gary.

“No,” she said like she meant it. But maybe they should end it before more people would die. Handing over Negan, lay down their arms, start over. Maybe Michonne was right. Maybe they could have if not a peace then maybe a truce. Maybe, or maybe not. Most likely not. She sighed.

“Michonne thinks Rick would go for that, but you saw him when he ambushed us. Jason and the others surrendered, and he killed ‘em. He straight up murdered them without any hesitation He’s too far gone. Maggie, too. It’ll never work out,” so why was there still a little nagging voice in her head telling her that maybe it would, just give it a try.

When they drove up the to the gates of the Sanctuary a worried frown took residence on her forehead. Regina and a whole bunch of Negan’s most loyal goons had gathered in front of the gate and were obviously awaiting them. This in itself wasn’t that much of a reason to worry, but Regina was basically gloating. What was going on? Gary stopped the car and frowned at her. He saw it, too.

“Get out of the car, slowly. We wanna see your hands,” and what the hell? Gary looked to her confused in a silent question what they should do.

“Just do it. I don’t know what’s going on,” they got out slowly, as requested, their hands in the air. DJ, with his gun trimmed at her chest, walked over like she was super dangerous and gave her a short frisking. He pulled the letter out of her pocket. Shit. On the other side of the car, Gary got the same treatment. Emma looked into Regina’s eyes the whole time, still with a frown.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on or not?” DJ handed her the letter and Regina skimmed through it. Emma was surprised that her lips weren’t moving. The smug smile on Regina’s face got impossible smugger.

“Well look at that. Seems like the story pans out.”

“What story,” Regina scoffed, walked over to her, and punched her in the solar plexus without any warning, hard. Emma got the wind knocked out of her and after that came the pain. She would have buckled but DJ kept her up. Gary’s reaction to that was trying to get to her and he was now restrained by two guys demanding to know what was going on. Emma felt like she was about to throw up. Regina really knew what she had been doing there. She was basically knocked out now. Still, the question remained why this here was happening.

“Get her to him,” Regina said with a disgusted snort. What the actual hell? Emma couldn’t walk, she still needed to breathe through the pain, so they more or less dragged her and a struggling Gary inside the Sanctuary. All the Saviors and many workers had gathered. Emma’s confusion reached an all-time high. The looks on their faces showed basically the whole spectrum of emotions, but the one she got the most was worry. Negan was awaiting her in his full glory, chin up high, with a set jaw, Lucille shouldered, and DJ threw her right in front of him. Pissed off wasn’t even starting to describe how he looked. Emma was still holding her stomach barely keeping herself upright with one hand bracing her body. Gary got shoved somewhere left of her and she looked over. Arat, Wade, and Brandon sat there on their knees. They all were rather scared. Arat seemed fine, but Wade and Brandon looked like they had gotten a hell of a beating and then each a half of the one supposed to be for Arat. Emma shook her head and looked up to Negan.

“What are you doing?” she asked him, genuinely distressed right now. And where the hell was Simon? Hadn’t he made it back yet?

“Shut your mouth,” Negan said coldly. Regina gave him the letter and he read it quickly. Every time his eyes jumped to another line his face got even colder. “Where did you get this?” he asked flatly. Emma rubbed her face.

“Michonne gave it to me. We,” she couldn’t explain any further because he interrupted her.

“So it’s true, huh? Everything is true. It was you the whole fucking time.”

“What?” Emma asked perplexed.

“Playing the chipper, loyal, little soldier girl right in front of us, but fucking around with Rick behind our back,” Emma finally clued in what was happening here. For some fucked up reason he thought she was the mole. Of all people. Had he forgotten how she had gotten them out of the Sanctuary just two days ago?

“I did not…”

“I have to say I am genuinely hurt by that. That you do that to me, to Simon? After everything we’ve done for you?” her advice to herself in that situation would be to shut up, but well, she was herself so.

“What _you_ did for _me_? How could you even consider that’s an option after everything _I_ did for _you_?” she got Lucille under her chin in no time. One of the spikes pressed uncomfortably into her skin.

“So what was the plan? Getting rid of me, getting rid of Simon? Taking over playing happy fucking family with Rick and the Widow?”

“There was no plan. I am not the mole,” Negan snapped to Dwight and he handed him a bag. Negan threw it in front of her. She stared at it a little sheepishly. “I don’t know what that is.”

“Open it,” he ordered. He had started to walk around a bit and made some trial swings with Lucille. Emma had a really bad feeling. She opened the bag and sighed. Inside was basically the spy and tell starter kit. She turned the long-range radio in her hands. It wasn’t one of theirs. There was a little notebook filled with important information, guard rounds, places of the stash houses, how many Saviors, where they were. It wasn’t even her handwriting, but to be fair it would be hard to prove this since the person writing that little diary had been smart enough to use block letters.

“That ain’t mine,” she said flatly. This was going bad here.

“So why did we find that shit in your car?” because someone planted it there.

“Depends on who found it,” she looked at him challengingly. Negan scoffed.

“It was Dwight’s idea after he heard that you let the kid go back in the woods. Yeah, I know about that. Arat ain’t as sneaky as she thinks,” Emma’s gaze felt on Dwight and suddenly it made perfect sense. It was him, he had everything, means, and motive and now he had orchestrated that little thing here. Shit, it was obviously him. Why hadn’t they already figured that out? She had bad cards. If she would start pointing her finger at him now no one would believe her. She wouldn’t believe it if she would be one of the nervous bystanders.

“The kid was bitten. He was dead anyway,” she said instead. Negan was simply ignoring her.

“You know I always wondered why Daryl and that Paul guy didn’t kill you back at the bike lot. Now I guess I got my explanation. Is it just you or are your guys in it, too? They swear they have nothing to do with it, or you. You trained them good, have to give you that. I hate wasting Saviors, but I really don’t know whom to trust anymore,” Emma got alarmed. It wasn’t beneath Negan to kill them.

“They have nothing to do with anything,” she left out the neither am I, which was halfway there to say she had done it. She would take the blame if she could save her people. He would kill her anyway. She wouldn’t get out of this.

“So you did it,” he more or less stated and Emma stayed quiet. That was basically the same as an admission. She glared over to Dwight. The asshole didn’t look especially happy, but she would so haunt this bastard when she was wasted. Negan looked really disappointed now. “I really liked you, you know that? Not only that. I respected you. I still kind of do. And out of that respect, I’m gonna give you a fast death,” yeah, right. That was the reason. The reason was that Simon wasn’t here. If Negan would stuff her in a cell and let her stew under constant torture for a while until her very public execution using Lucille this wouldn’t sit well with Simon, alleged traitor or not. Emma chuckled which caused Negan to stop his pacing. “What’s so fucking funny?”

“You are. You sure that’s respect and not fear? Cause you mix up these two all the time. Or do you really think anyone in this room is respecting you? Hell no, they know that they are just one wrong look away from sitting where I am sitting, about to be on the business end of your fucked up, sorry excuse for a shrine for your dead wife. Since I don’t believe her favorite pastime was killing people way to keep her memory alive, you psychopathic, megalomaniac asshole,” she would die for this one alone. Good to finally let it out. Negan was losing his shit. He attacked her with some sort of war cry, the bat yanked up over his head and Emma was awaiting the inevitable with closed eyes. He pulled away the last second and his own momentum sent him stumbling. Then he grabbed her neck.

“No!” he yelled at her. “You are not worth her!” he shoved her down hard and she landed on her hands again. “How about another promotion, hm? Advanced guard duty,” oh please no. “You can work for the unforeseeable future on the fence. Regina, kill her,” he made a casual handwave in her direction. Regina pulled her gun with a smug grin. Fucking bitch. She would haunt her, too. She would be one busy ghost. There was a shot, but it couldn’t be Regina since she hadn’t even aimed yet, well and she was bleeding from a shotgun wound in her forehead. The professional soldier in her applauded to the marksmanship.

“Oh, that’s embarrassing. I was aiming for the shoulder,” Simon said behind her in an incredible pleased voice. She could have cried right now. Negan glared at him and Emma took a chance to look over her shoulder. Simon was covered in what looked like walker blood, but she had to fight the urge to throw herself into his arms. With a very calm and collected expression, he put the gun on Negan.

“You better start explaining, or I promise you, the next one goes in you,” he said and gave Negan a little encouraging head tilt. The fact alone that he could do that unbothered showed how irritated and confused every Savior in the room was. When you thought about it they just witnessed their whole management floor going batshit crazy. And the show wasn’t over. 

“Put that gun down. You don’t know enough to assess the situation correctly.”

“Then by all means, fill me in,” Negan pointed Lucille at her.

“Your little bitch over there? She’s not just a little bitch, she’s a big, fucking, backstabbing bitch, in cahoots with Rick the whole time. She basically admitted it,” Simon had walked closer, the gun still in the general direction of Negan’s head. He looked down on her quickly with an unreadable expression and back to Negan.

“Bullshit,” he just said. Negan picked up the bag and held in Simon’s direction.

“Staggering evidence, we might have caught her with a smoking gun over a dead body,” Simon made a little sound like he thought this was all very interesting. He palmed his mustache.

“And you made that conclusion all by yourself, or?” he looked at Negan expectantly. The man scoffed.

“Courtesy of Dwight. Simon, she had a letter the kid wrote to me on her when she got here. She even admitted that Michonne had given it to her. How much evidence do you need?” Simon nodded thoughtfully. Then he put the gun in his belt.

“I can explain that letter,” Emma added. She didn’t like how Simon just put the gun back. Was he seriously believing Negan here?

“So let me see _if_ I assess the situation correctly. You think that sometime after we killed two of them Emma somehow snug to the Hilltop, made peace with the woman whose husband she has on her conscious and who hates her deeply, came up with elaborate plans including the very realistic staging of two near death experiences, one of which a tiger attack, to distract us from the fact that she is colluding with the enemy, then for some reason made a 180 and actually helped to get us out of the little besiegement situation, all while she somehow managed to be in two places at once handing out secret guns to the workers while taking the Kingdom hostage, because why not, did another 180 and helped them escape from Alexandria doing that being in two places at once thing again ambushing our people while being here the whole time and then came in here with incriminating evidence on her like a complete idiot. And you think that on the word of the one person here who hates your guts the most. _Am I_ assessing the situation correctly?” Negan looked rather sober now. It did sound stupid when you put it that way. Simon let one very heavy hand fall on Dwight’s shoulder. He looked down on it.

“That’s actually pretty smart, D. Make Negan kill Emma for some fucked up reason that wouldn’t withstand thorough questioning, so I would lose my shit and kill the man, or die trying, either way, it would end with two thirds of the head gone and leave the rest vulnerable to Rick’s little plans. Does that sound like something you would do?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“No? Because for me it does. It’s up the same alley with luring a bunch of our people in a trap and start mowing them down from behind like the little coward prick you are.”

“I did not do that,” Dwight was pretty convincing. Emma had to give him that.

“Really, though? Maybe I’m telling it wrong,” he turned around. “Laura be a dear, tell everyone what happened there last night,” the delight Emma felt when she saw the girl stepping forward was tarnished by the fact that she looked like hell twice warmed over.

“It was him. He let them through. They had us pinned down and then he just started shooting. Shot me in the arm. I got away. He’s helping them the whole time,” Negan pressed his lips together. He had just made one huge misjudgment and it did not look good on him. Simon grinned.

“Well, that’s even better than the metaphorical smoking gun. It’s a literal one. DJ escort Dwighty to his usual dark cell, would you?” he stood very close to the boss, making that extra inch count. His eyes never lost Negan’s. “Shows over,” he said loudly to everyone. That he was calling the shots now did say a lot. The Saviors scattered slowly and reluctantly. Suddenly Arat stood next to Emma and tried to help her up. Oh yeah, she was still kind of kneeling here. Her stomach still hurt so she took the helping hand.

“Go help Wade and Brandon, and someone has to check out Laura,” Arat nodded tightly, shot one nervous look to Negan and Simon, probably contemplating if it was a good idea to leave Emma alone with both men, but then she walked away. Simon wasn’t smiling now. He looked at Negan with a hard face and the man just stared back. There was even something like regret in these cold eyes, but not much. He waited until they were alone, but the second the last Savior and worker retreated from the awkward tense little manager meeting he had Negan by his collar and shoved him a couple of steps back.

“I should kill you for calling her my bitch alone,” he snapped. Negan lifted his hands in a pacifying gesture. He wasn’t fighting back. Simon shook him a little. “After everything, all the times she saved your sorry ass, all the times she put her life in danger to get shit done for you, of all the people here you thought she would betray you? Betray me? Are you even aware that if she would be with Rick we all would be dead a long time ago? What the fuck were you thinking?” he let him go roughly and stepped a step back palming his face.

“Look Simon, I am sorry,” Simon scoffed.

“You are sorry? You just ordered Regina to kill her. If I would have come in here 30 seconds later than I did she would be dead, and honestly? You probably, too,” Negan glared at him for that.

“You would really have killed me?” sure thing he made this about himself.

“You are unbelievable,” Simon snapped. Then he took her hand and more or less dragged her away.

“Simon,” Negan called after them.

“Stay the hell away from her, or me,” he snapped over his shoulder. Emma had trouble following him, not that she had a choice here, he really held onto her hand. They passed a lot of confused and irritated Saviors and workers that quickly scurried out of their way. Suddenly she realized something. She had said something really stupid there. Simon didn’t even know that. Oh my god. She had called him a psychopath, she had said no one respected him, she had insulted Lucille, not even the bat, the woman. Emma’s heart began to pound impossible faster than it already did. Simon dragged her into the room and Emma freed herself from his grip and started pacing immediately mumbling Oh God a couple of times. This wasn’t good, no good at all. Simon frowned at her a little irritated.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he stopped her and forced her to look at him. “It’s okay, it’s over. I got you, okay?” he made her sit and took her hands. He wanted to take her in his arms when he realized that he was covered in guts and all kinds of yikes, so he simply dragged the shirt over his head and pulled her against his chest. She was trembling like a leaf. He probably wondered why she was so shaken up, it wasn’t her first time of nearly dying, she did it all the time, she was a fucking professional. If he wondered he wasn’t showing it. It took a really long time for her to calm down, and all the time Simon muttered sweet, soothing nothings in her ears.

“I think I screwed up,” she pressed her face a little deeper into the crook of his neck and finally pushed herself away. He let her go reluctantly. “I told him that no one here respects him. I called his bat a fucked-up shrine and I really insulted his wife, I think. And I told him he’s a psychopath and a megalomaniac,” Simon got very serious. This in itself maybe didn’t sound so bad, especially considering the circumstances, but it was Negan. Negan wasn’t rational when it came down to things like that. Simon knew that. Simon had reminded her of that many, many times. She wouldn’t be the first to wind up dead for saying things like that, and she had said it in front of _everyone_.

“Hey,” he gave her a kiss on the forehead and put his against hers. “I will not allow that, okay? I will not allow him to hurt you,” that was what she was afraid of. She just signed her death warrant, and very likely Simon’s, too.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fall of Negan

“Does that feel anticlimactic to you?” Emma asked Simon who sighed and pulled up Gabriel from where he had leaned against the car. The man still looked like shit, although his fever had finally broken. Probably wasn’t helpful that instead of recovering he had made bullets all night. Emma gave the King a nudge who stared wide-eyed at the scene in front of him. It was basically purge night all over again, just with way more participants. The Militia was done. They were disarmed, surrounded, and all kneeling in anticipation of the inevitable. Emma actually was astounded that finally one of Negan’s plans had worked.

“I’m more surprised that these are all of them. That are just 80 people. Can’t believe we’ve been fucked over so royally by 80 people,” he muttered and shoved Gabriel next to Dwight and a grinning Negan.

 

_13 hours earlier_

_Emma sat on the bed behind Simon with her arms around his waist and her forehead between his shoulder blades. He smelled good. She wondered for a moment where her thoughts were going here. She actually should think about what her next step would be. Running came to mind. With all the bullshit that was going on here, she would get away easily. If Simon was up to this? She sighed. There was a knock and Simon tensed. The knock had been rather characteristically. He had some nerve to bring that goddamn bat with him._

_“Fuck off,” Simon called out._

_“Come on Simon, I know the door is open,” the man simply ignored him which didn’t make him go away. Simon snorted annoyed when Negan came in, rather carefully and guarded. Emma wanted to let go of Simon, but he grabbed her hand and she leaned against his back again. Negan sighed._

_“Alright, I know. Okay? I fucked up. Immensely. I wasn’t thinking, and I made a huge fucking wrong call. I should have known it wasn’t you and I am truly sorry,” wow. He actually apologized. That was a first. “Look. I’m under a lot of pressure here, we all are. I maybe act like I’m fucking king shit but I’m treading water like everybody else. I just got away from a fucking assassination attempt by Rick that was both, fucking scary as shit and pretty fucking enlightening. I would have believed anything at this point and Dwight was really fucking convincing. And you have to admit letting that kid go was a kick in my nuts and you still owe me an explanation why you carry around that fucking letter,” Emma scoffed. She didn’t_ owe _him anything._

_“Oh yeah? Do I? It’s a great tale, has everything, even a love story. And it goes none of your fucking business,” she bit her cheek. She shouldn’t have said that. But she was pissed off of him and scared out of her wits, and the combination made her stupid. Simon rubbed her arm calmingly._

_“It’s better you leave now,” he said with a little threat in his voice. Negan sighed again._

_“Okay, I deserve that, I know. But I think we all made mistakes today, don’t you think?” he returned the threat. This was going great. Negan rolled his eyes. “Alright, listen, both of you. Today was fucked up and it was my fault. I own this, and I will make it up to you. I promise. You know I am a man of my word. But I can’t win this without you. We can end this, once and for all,” Simon let out an irritated huff._

_“Oh, suddenly we can end this. Pray tell how, hm?” now Negan grinned. He obviously took this as an acceptance of his apology or at least as Simon taking his laurel branch._

_“Well before I so spectacularly kicked myself in my own balls I elaborated battle plans with Dwight including where I and the main part of our troops will be tomorrow at a certain time.”_

_“So?”_

_“The little fucker had all time in the world to tattle to Gregory who seems to be missing since a couple of hours now,” Simon frowned and shared a look over his shoulder with Emma._

_“You sure about that?”_

_“Pretty much. DJ saw them talking right before Gregory went missing and obviously he handed him something that looked like a map. That idiot just wasn’t thinking anything about it at the time. Our people are really not the fucking brightest,” Negan wasn’t wrong here._

_“So you think Rick knows your plans and you want to lure him in a trap?”_

_“That’s exactly what I’m thinking. So what do you say, are you in?”_

 

 

Negan was gloating.

“Well damn, Rick. Look at that. Pegged again. Pegged so very hard. I ambushed your ambush with an even bigger ambush. I brought some of your old friends. You remember your old buddy Eugene? He’s the person that made today possible. Same goes for Dwighty boy here. In case you’re wondering, he didn’t ream you on purpose. No, he’s just a gutless nothin’ that sucks at life, and now he gets to stand up here and watch you all die, and he’s gonna live with that. Gabriel, well he’s got to go, too. King Assface goes without saying. We are cleaning house today, Rick. And then there is you. It never had to be a fight. You just had to accept how things are. So here we go,” he took the revolver in his hand and put the business end on the back of Gabriel’s head. The plan was to execute the two men in front of the Militia first, then all the others, with Rick and Maggie last. Negan pulled the trigger. Gabriel flinched terribly to the clicking sound, it was almost pathetic. Negan looked pissed off at Eugene.

“The fuck is that now?” Eugene shrugged irritated. Negan palmed his beard. “Well, now that’s embarrassing. Simon? Give me your gun,” Simon wasn’t reacting. He had a distant expression on his face. “Simon,” Negan snapped which ultimately snapped Simon out of his thoughts. “Your gun,” he looked at him impatiently. Simon stared down at his handgun and Emma got worried. He shared a look with her while Negan got angrier by the second. Then Simon gave her the tiniest wink. That trademark grin appeared.

“Of course, sorry,” he said and pulled his gun out of his holster just to put in Negan’s face. “Now!”

One-third of the Saviors turned against the other third of the Saviors while the remaining third kept the Militia in check. What followed was a moment of confusion and then guns were fired, mostly back in the faces of the ones pulling the trigger. Emma jumped a bit. Not every one of the poor suckers that just went down would stand up again. But that was the price they had to pay if they wanted to end this.

“What the fuck, Simon,” Negan growled and was about to attack the man when he moved the gun over to Jared quickly and shot him in the chest. Then he calmly trimmed it back at Negan. Looked like Eugene had been holding his end of their deal. This had been the most critical part of the plan.

“Remember when I told you, you shouldn’t put so much trust in Eugene over there since there is a fair chance he might betray us? Guess who rigged the bullets? But believe me, ours will work just fine.”

 

_8 hours earlier_

_There was another knock. They sure were popular tonight. Simon got up and opened the door. It was Gary who had Eugene with him for some reason. Simon frowned at him._

_“What is it?” Gary made a head jerk to the guy._

_“He insisted to talk to Emma. He is really fucking annoying, by the way,” Simon stepped aside._

_“Alright, come on in,” Eugene stepped in hesitantly. He was a pretty tall guy, Emma had never really realized that since he always seemed crouched down. Tonight he stood tall. He nearly looked defiant. Simon still had probably three inches on him._

_“I was hoping to speak to you alone,” he said in that flat tone that everyone was hating._

_“No chance in hell, friend,” Simon bellowed. “You want to say something to Emma here you have to say it to me, too. She’ll probably tell me anyway,” Eugene stared at Simon and some of that defiance was replaced by fear. He opened and closed his fists a couple of times. Suddenly he put on a look of determination, waltzed over to the door, and shut it in Gary’s face. He turned around._

_“The average 9mm bullet hold 95 grains of propellant,” he made a pause, probably for dramatic timing. “The past six hours I let my colleagues overload the cases with a powder charge excessive to an adequate powder charge by 25 percent,” Emma stared at him. Simon, on the other hand, looked lost._

_“I don’t know what that means,” he finally said. Emma got up, slowly._

_“The words overload, excessive, and adequate might have tipped you off?” Simon tilted his head. Emma sighed. “There’s a saying in the military. Don’t ever shoot ammo reloaded by anybody but yourself. Reloaded ammo can be very dangerous. He rigged the goddamn bullets. Chances are high they blow in our faces,” Simon’s reaction came instantly. He grabbed Eugene and pressed him against the wall with a low thud. That was probably the reason he wanted to talk to her alone._

_“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you right here and now for that?”_

_“Simon.”_

_“Or drag you to Negan. He would have a goddamn field day with your head.”_

_“Simon, stop it,” the man glared at Eugene a while longer and finally let him go. He still hovered in his personal space, though._

_“Why are you telling me this?” Simon stepped a step back. That was a good question. Eugene’s eyes flicked from her to Simon and back._

_“I am not a big person. I do not stick my neck out for anyone other than myself. That had kept me vertical when so many have gone horizontal. Being a small person goes hand in hand with being an invisible person which puts me in the position to overhear conversations meant to be on the Q.T. I was aware of Dwight’s cloak-and-dagger,” Simon looked about ready to put him back on the wall again. “I heard the workers and the Saviors chatty cathying about the current situation and their opinions on Negan and you. That said it is probably no surprise to you to hear that you won the popularity contest in a rout. After these afternoons events and your unfortunate diction regarding Negan’s unhealthy relationship with his baseball bat he ordered one of his men to make sure you got fragged in tomorrow’s skirmish,” Emma took a sharp inhale. Negan was moving fast. Simon frowned at her. “I have a high opinion of you and despite advocating for the total eradication of Rick and his group at yesterday’s meeting I do believe that this is not your true narrative. That’s why after I introduced a sabotaging aspect to the manufacturing process I decided to confide in you, because I have faith that you can use this information and the unrigged ammunition I am willed to provide to you to end this war between the Saviors and Rick with few casualties on both sides,” Emma and Simon both kind of stared at Eugene for a while._

_“Well, I wasn’t asking you for your life story, but you told it anyway. Who’s the guy that should make sure I get killed tomorrow?” Simon’s head snapped to her._

_“When did he say that?”_

_“That’s what fragging means,” she said flatly. “Sometimes it is really obvious that you have no idea about the military or it’s lingo, like at all.” Simon gave her an eye roll for that._

_“I believe his name is Jared,” Simon cursed._

_“I should’ve beaten that asshole to a pulp. That’s no surprise actually. He hates your guts. Negan could argue he did it on his own accord,” Simon palmed his face and put his hands on his belt. He looked at Eugene who got nervous under the stare. “So you are saying a batch of the ammo is ready to blow back in our faces, but not all of it and Negan just ordered someone to kill Emma.”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Jesus Christ. What are we supposed to do with that information?” Emma bit her lips._ When there is a point when it means his decision or yours, a lot of us would rather follow you. And you would be surprised how many of the ones not rooting for you would follow Simon. _Arat’s words rang in her head._

_“Simon,” he looked at her. “I need to ask you something and you have to answer the question honestly,” he just shrugged in confirmation. “What if I know a way to get rid of Negan and end this war?”_

 

 

“You fucking, backstabbing, …”

“Shut up,” Simon interrupted him. “I know what you gonna say. A lot of choice words, even more inappropriate use of the word shit and fuck and so on and so on. Yadda yadda. Really won’t change much on the outcome. You brought this onto yourself. See, Em and I were ready to end this the way you planned. Kill them dead, start over. Everyone is happy. But then a little birdie tweeted that you could not let a basic insult of your overinflated ego go and told the dead guy over there to end Emma’s life. I don’t know what you thought I would do then, probably something ugly that would have ended with either me or you dead. So yes, I gladly stab you in the back here, so spare me your petty insults,” Negan scoffed. He grinned that fake grin.

“So this is it? You kill me, kill them, take over the Saviors? You don’t have the balls and the brains to lead them, you know that,” Simon smacked his lips and grinned even wider.

“Aw cupcake don’t get stupid on me now. I might don’t have them, she has. And judging by the fact alone that she came up with a perfectly fine plan for hitting her newest milestone in her career in less than five hours I am pretty sure she’s the wisest choice,” Negan glared at her and then a Simon and back at her. He turned to Gavin who looked…confused.

“You in on that, too?”

“I…”

“He’s not. But knowing him, he will be, right, Gavin?” Simon said a little sharper than he had to. Gavin groaned a bit.

“Sure, yeah. I’m in,” Simon grinned. Of course, he was, it was Gavin. Negan clenched his jar.

“What now? You gonna kill me?” Emma scoffed. She took Lucille that Wade had given her. Negan had kept the thing in his truck. He glared at her so loathsomely he almost made an impression. “You get not to touch her,” he growled. Emma sighed and smiled at him sadly.

“And yet here I am. I think I’m gonna keep her. Hang her on my wall or some shit. Or we start a museum. Together with that fugly leather jacket. Why are you wearing the same clothes every day anyway? You are like a cartoon character.”

“I should have bashed your skull in yesterday,” he snarled. He was a sore loser. That was no surprise.

“Maybe, probably. Well on the other hand that would have meant that Eugene would have rigged all of the ammo and you would have lost anyway, but I wouldn’t be here to gloat. Oh and I gloat, believe me. This morning, Simon, Arat, Wade, Gary, Laura, and I had a discussion on how to kill you. Pull a Caesar, shoot you in the head, slow and painful with the thousand cuts method, Simon doesn’t want to kill you at all actually, he really is a good friend to you. Pity you are not his, am I right?” Negan just glared daggers. “So Simon won. We won’t kill you,” Negan looked surprised. She sauntered around him a bit, with Lucille shouldered the way he always did it and stopped in front of him. In a safe distance. She wasn’t an idiot. “Meanwhile, how about a kneel,” this was petty, and she knew it, but sometimes you just had to be petty. Period. He didn’t kneel of course. She would be surprised if he had dropped to his knees right here and now. So she made him, or better, Arat made him. She tilted her head little and looked into his eyes that looked back at her with all the hate he could muster at the moment, which seemed to be a lot. She smirked.

“I need to tell you something, and it’s really simple. So even if you’re stupid, which you very may well be, you can understand it,” this had been his word exactly in the purge night to Rick. “You lose, I win,” she made a little pause. “Also, did it ever occurred to you that you tried to get seven different women pregnant during the course of 3 years and none of them ever got a bun in the oven? I mean it’s pretty obvious you are shooting blanks, you know that, right?” Simon scoffed at that.

“Em,” he said. Yeah, yeah, they had a whole thing here planned. She handed him Lucille.

“Anyway,” she sauntered over to Dwight and without warning punched him in the gut. He toppled over but she held him upright. “Take a breather, through the pain. Here we go,” he coughed a bit and held his stomach. “Look, D. I am sorry for everything Negan put you through. You had it rough. Rougher than most. Really sorry, but that was for handing out handguns to the workers when the Sanctuary was besieged. What the fuck were you thinking? What if they hadn’t decided to give them to Arat and Gary but to go upstairs and use them instead? This would have been a bloodbath and newsflash, it wouldn’t have been the Saviors paying the price. So you kind of deserved that, hm?” he looked her in the eyes and then he actually nodded.

“Fair enough,” he pressed out.

“Cool,” she took her knife and cut off his ties. He stared at her dumbfounded. “I take it that you didn’t kill Sherry and that she still is out there somewhere?” he nodded with tight lips. Emma pulled out a couple of keys and weighed them in her hands. She shared a look with Simon who shrugged. Dwight had betrayed them, he was responsible for the death of a lot of people, but Negan had turned him into the man he was now and took everything he had away from him in the process. By the end of the day, he was just another victim and he had been a good and loyal friend to a lot of Saviors before. “These are for the red pick-up. We put some supplies in there, clothes, some food, water, a gun. Go find your girl and when you found her you come see me and we talk how you can make it up to me that you nearly got me killed yesterday. That was a dick move, by the way,” he stared at the keys.

“Are you serious?” he asked in a hollow voice.

“No, I am making an elaborate joke and will shoot you in the back the moment you turn around. Of course, I am serious,” she dangled the keys and he took them hesitantly.

“Thank you,” he said softly, and she grinned.

“Don’t thank me yet, maybe I’m worse than Negan.”

“I doubt that.”

“You are a charmer, D. Now get the fuck outta here,” she turned around, but she could see him walk in the direction of the cars out of the corner of her eye. She mustered the Militia. Everyone looked mostly muddled by the turns of events, but she could tell that a lot of them were still scared to death.

“What am I gonna do with you?”

 

_6 hours earlier_

_“Well, it’s probably a good thing the men of the Satellite Outpost are either dead or prisoners,” Wade said. He had a contused rib, but otherwise, he only had some bruises and sprains. Brandon was less lucky. Emma was pretty sure he had a bad concussion and at least three broken ribs. “But I can tell you for sure the whole of the Shepherd Plaza is yours, all 12 of us. This is the same amount of followers Jesus had. That’s a good sign, right?”_

_“Yeah, and it’s probably blasphemy saying it, too.”_

_“Look around, God’s dead,” he said. That was very dark of him. Emma sighed._

_“What about my guys?” Arat scoffed._

_“What kind of question is that? All of us,” she nearly looked offended by Emma asking._

_“How many are that?”_

_“You don’t know how many soldiers you have?” Simon asked flatly. He was nervous because they were very openly conspiring. Or at least he said so and he wasn’t wrong. That suddenly a bunch of people gathered in the middle of the night in someone’s random bedroom wasn’t suspicious at all. But Emma’s guys were on watch duty that night, and she doubted that anyone else suddenly would start to show initiative now and snoop around the compound._

_“Do you know how many you have?” Simon shrugged. Of course, he had. He did the math since he had to subtract the ones that died in the Satellite Outpost._

_“74, the ones at the Hilltop included.” he finally said. And he probably knew the name of all of them._

_“Showoff,” she mumbled. “How many of them would change sides?” Simon shared a look with Alex._

_“After what you did with the herd and the BMG, most of us here, I mean we call you badass boss bitch for a reason,” Emma tilted her head a little._

_“You are doing what?” Alex flushed crimson. Emma was just messing with him. She knew the nicknames, all of them, most weren’t flattering, although she was considering owning up on thundercunt. She kind of liked that one. Simon scoffed._

_“Relax, she knows. Me too by the way,” Alex got a bit smaller and Simon clapped him on the shoulder._

_“So that’s 12, plus 36 since 38 are prisoners and then how many?”_

_“89,” Simon whistled._

_“Damn you are popular. So 137 people and the ones here in the room versus Negan and 67 of his guys. I can’t believe I am having that conversation,” he rubbed his face with both of his hands and leaned back with them clasped behind his head. “You really think Eugene pans out? He is the one who knows which bullets aren’t rigged and he only gives them to us because he thinks you will let them live.”_

_“I was planning to keep my word on that. In the end, it will be up to Rick, but I don’t want to kill ‘em.”_

_“I know, but he doesn’t. Not really. For all he knows you could make a 180 at the last minute. He doesn’t actually know you at all. So maybe he's playing on that and then we have no working weapons as well, what then?” all eyes went to Emma who sighed._

_“Look, when we play that right only one shot will be fired by us. The one to drive home our guns are perfectly fine.”_

_“And whose will that be?”_

_“Whoever he will ask to give him his gun. Probably you. I know the guy. He will be pissed that his gun isn’t working and then he will ask either you or me, but most likely you.”_

_“What if he asks Gavin?”_

_“Well then it will fire back, and we give away our cover 30 seconds earlier and you can still put your gun on him, but this time he’s either dead or has lost a couple of fingers. You are overthinking this, Simon.”_

_“Yeah? Maybe because we are planning a last-minute coup in Brandon’s bedroom based on assumptions that can get us all very dead, extremely dead.”_

_“And you are pretty fucking loud doing that,” Brandon mumbled. Emma took a new icepack out of the cooler and changed the one on his forehead._

_“Try to sleep, we are out of here soon,” Simon watched the scene with a frown._

_“Ryan planned his thing for months, and he failed,” Emma had enough._

_“Look, Ryan hadn’t me, in fact, he had to stand up against me and I ruined his little plan that he forged for more than three months in 4 hours. And I put less effort in it than I do now. You want to know what the fucking problem of that place is, with the soldiers, even with you? You are bullies. You are good at bullying, but you are shit when it comes down to real confrontations. That’s why we are losing that fucking war. You lack foresight, oversight, discipline, and strategy and you constantly underestimate your opponent. And right now Negan underestimates me, you and the people here. Eugene gave us a gift horse. Sure, we will need luck, you always need luck no matter how good the plan is, but this will work. So please stop making up scenarios,” Simon rolled his eyes._

_“Fine.”_

_“Thank you,” there was an awkward silence that Wade, of course, had to break._

_“Are we gonna talk about the fact that no one of us had seen coming that Dwight is the mole?” suddenly everyone was talking at once._

_“Yeah I know right?”_

_“When you think of it it’s really obvious.”_

_“Who else? Makes perfect sense when you think of it.”_

_“I’m actually embarrassed I didn’t see that.”_

_“Alright, shut up. All of you,” Emma said loud enough over the random chatter. Everyone looked at her. “Can we go back to the plan?” Simon tilted his head._

_“I thought we are done talking about the plan.”_

_“Almost, we haven’t clarified the last part of the plan. The part with what will happen to Negan?” Simon got tight-lipped and stared at his lap. “Simon?” he sighed._

_“I fucking know, alright? I know. They surrender, and we give them Negan.”_

 

She walked to Rick and crouched down. He looked defeated. That surprised Emma. She had expected the characteristic stink eye, the one she got from Maggie and Daryl. At least they didn’t disappoint. Emma pulled out the letter.

“I am sorry for your loss, Rick. I personally didn’t like Carl, but I guess he was a good kid and it’s a shame that he’s dead,” Rick sort of nodded to that and averted his eyes. She got up again and eyed everyone up and down, the King and the Priest included and sighed.

“The easiest would be to kill you. Take over your communities, kill the people there, too, if need be and just take advantage over your infrastructure. You might have killed a lot of us, but there are still a lot of us left and believe it or not, we can till a field and tend to a garden. You would be dead, and I would not have to worry that Maggie will jump around a tree one day and stab me in the back. A lot of my guys would like that, too. But here’s a thing. I am not really that person. So how about that? A peace offering and a deal. The deal to end all deals,” she gave Maggie and Rick a very hard look. Maggie still glared with hatred, but Rick looked almost like he would actually listen. “I cut you loose, you get in your cars, you go home, tend to your wounded, bury you dead,” she stared at Maggie and looked her dead in the eye. “Grief, in an appropriate, non-violent way,” Maggie’s eyes went down. “And we do the same. And when someday we can see each other in the eyes without fighting the urge to rip our respective throats out we talk,” there was no instant reaction to this, maybe from Michonne who gave Rick a pleading look. Maggie pressed her lips together. Emma unfolded the letter. “You know what that is? That’s a letter from Carl to Negan,” Rick looked up. Michonne obviously hadn’t informed him about that. “At this point, it’s a letter to whom it might concern, which is me. Let’s read some highlights, shall we? Maybe you’ll beat us, check by the way. And if you do, there’ll just be someone else to fight. The way out is working together. It’s forgiveness. It’s believing that it doesn’t have to a fight anymore. I hope my Dad offers you peace. I hope you take it,” she looked at Rick who had tears in his eyes now. Reading that letter _was_ a bit cruel. “These are the words of your son, Rick,” she crouched down again and looked him in the eyes. “Here’s your chance to offer me peace. Offer me peace and I’ll take it,” Rick stared into her face for a little bit, his lips silently moving, his eye wet and a bit harried.

“Yeah,” he said barely audible and then a little louder. “Yes,” Emma smiled.

“Well, that was easy. Good, get up. Come on,” everyone got up a bit reluctantly.

“What about him,” Maggie snapped. Her voice was strained. Jesus, she needed a grief counselor and some chamomile tea. This couldn’t be good for the baby.

“What about him?” this was the hardest part. Not for her. She would have killed Negan herself and wouldn’t even cock an eyebrow, but the hardest part for Simon. Thing was, he actually loved that asshole like a brother. Sure, he was about ready to kill him for ordering her death, twice, and this had been enough to make him turn against him permanently, but the heat for that had simmered down a bit and now he was heartbroken that Negan’s inevitable end was just around the corner. He understood it, he supported it, but it pained him nonetheless. She wished she could spare him that pain.

“Hand him over and surrender. That was the deal,” which show was Maggie watching?

“Let’s make one thing perfectly clear here, Margaret,” she came a bit closer. Closer than she needed to be which made a lot of Rick’s people uncomfortable, but they were the ones without guns. “This is not us surrendering. If anything this is us winning and being perfect gentlemen about it. You don’t get to make demands, you don’t get to act like you have a say here, you don’t get shit unless I say so. This is a permanent ceasefire and in time we will work out the new cornerstones of our future collaboration. So please don’t ask me again to give you anything, because spoilers, I will say no,” she rolled her eyes. “Anyway. I did say something about a peace offering, haven’t I? Why thank you, Maggie, you ruined it,” she grabbed Ricks knife and gun from Wade and held them in Ricks direction. “He’s all yours,” although she had expected it she was surprised by any lack of hesitation. Rick grabbed his knife, walked over to Negan quickly and cut his throat. Simon’s eyes fell to the ground and he turned away with his hand in front of his mouth. Negan looked surprised, too. He was a man who always landed on his feet and now missed that landing for the first time.

“What did you do,” he pressed out before he fell to the ground. The cut wasn’t deep. It would take a while. Shit. She had kind of hoped Rick would shoot him. Now Simon had to watch him bleed out slowly. Rick stared down at him with the knife in his hands. He turned to a man, the guy that had been with Carl in the woods the other day.

“Safe him,” he said. Next to Emma Maggie was losing it. Michonne had to pull her back with the help of Paul. Emma retreated a bit from the drama. Rick’s notion was, well, unexpected covered it pretty well. Rick watched the man now crouching over Negan for a while before he turned to face Emma and the Saviors. Her guys had disarmed the ones of the Negan’s people who hadn’t been stupid enough to fire at their own guys and played now first responders to the ones who shot themselves in the face. They had lost a lot of fingers and eyes this day, but by the looks of it not many actually died. Emma gave Rick a glance. Oh God, he would give a speech.

“What happened, what we did, what we lost, there‘s gotta be something after. We’re all gonna go home now, Negan’s alive,” alright. She just heard a very bad string quartet start playing in the distance.

“I gotta interrupt you there. Seriously one more inspiring speech of you and I’m gonna scream. You are not eloquent at all, dude. And FYI, I think I kind of covered it already. Let’s end this like professionals. Next thing I’ll do is go to the Chem Plant and cut your guys loose and I expect you to do the same with our guys, well and if you don’t want him, I am ready to give Gregory a chance. Simon kind of likes him. Oh, and I really need Gracie back. Like really, really bad.”

“No,” Maggie snapped. Emma sighed annoyed. She might be emotional here, but

“What the fuck Maggie. You kidnapped her after you killed her father and her foster mother. Although I would really love to see you guys explain that to her when she’s old enough she’s a Savior, we want her back. Period. Besides, don’t you have your own little kid? Not to mention the one in your womb?”

“We will send Gracie together with your people,” Paul now interrupted. At least one of these assholes wasn’t a complete asshole. He led Maggie away. That was probably a good thing.

“Much obliged,” Emma said sarcastically. Simon stood now next to her, his eyes still fixed on Negan, and she tugged on his sleeve. “Come on, we’re leaving,” he turned to her and nodded. “Alright people. Load up the wounded. We head out,” she said loud enough for everyone. When she passed Rick she stopped.

“I hope for everybody’s sake you made the right decision here,” she made a head jerk to Negan.

“Me too,” he said. And then he did something unexpected. He held out his hand. Emma looked down on it a bit startled. The handshake was firm, and Rick held eye contact without Emma getting the feeling he had just thought about killing her six ways and dispose of her body in three. Then he leaned in a bit. “We probably should keep Daryl and Simon away from each other,” Emma raised an eyebrow. Simon had stopped a couple of feet away from Daryl and glared at the man who glared back in a mix of bad attitude and nervousness.

“Yeah, that’s probably wise with the whole,” she gestured around her throat.

“Yeah, the whole choking thing,” did he just show some sense of humor? “So see you around, and then we talk,” Emma nodded and walked to Simon whom she unceremoniously dragged away from Daryl. In the car, Emma blew some air out and felt a massive amount of tension leaving her body. She had basically been coiled up tight inside the whole time since yesterday. Despite her openly shown confidence this plan had been flimsy as fuck. Holy shit, she couldn’t really believe that had worked. But now it was finally over. She looked over to Simon who smiled a little tired at her. He shot one last glance at Negan and started the car.

“You alright?” she squeezed his thigh above his knee and he took her hand.

“I will be,” he said.


	31. Epilog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new beginning

Emma woke up to Simon idly drawing patterns on the back of her hand. She opened her eyes. The room was rather dark, so it was still before sunset and one quick look at the clock confirmed that it was just 5.43 a.m. Emma sighed a bit and pressed into Simon’s warm body who pressed back.

“Morning,” he said lowly, his voice still husky from sleep. Her only response was a little hum. She could totally go back to sleep here. After a while, she opened her eyes again and looked down at her hand. Simon’s drawing wasn’t random anymore. She chuckled a bit and wiggled herself from under his arm to turn around and face him.

“I missed you, too,” she said with a small smile and he smiled back.

“You could tell that, huh?” instead of an answer Emma gave him a small kiss. Then she led her thumb glide over his now naked upper lip.

“You really went through with this, I see.”

“A bet’s a bet. I feel naked, by the way,” Emma put a contemplating look on her face.

“I don’t know. I kind of like it. Not that I didn’t like the pornstache, but that’s a good look on you, too,” Simon huffed a laugh. He studied her face and got serious again.

“So how did it go? You weren’t exactly in a chatty mood last night. Good? Bad? Are we back at war again?” Emma wasn’t in quite sure if she was in a chatty mood right now, that’s why she said.

“You first,” while she had her first long, exhausting and really, really annoying meeting with Alexandrina and the Hilltop on the rather neutral ground of the Kingdom with Wade and a guy named Cyrus who spoke for the now former workers, Simon and Gavin and whole bunch of other people including trusted Saviors like Alden and Arat had figured out how much they had lost and how much they had left. Emma dreaded a bit to hear the results. Simon sighed.

“Not as bad as we thought, considering we are basically halved. We can make it through winter rather comfortably, but we need to get those crops and vegetables growing in spring, otherwise, and excuse my French, we are fucked. The comfortably part depends on what they want. So hit me. What do they want?” well, that was good to hear. She made a little, relieved sound. 

“Nothing,” she finally stated. Simon frowned at her.

“What do you mean?” he asked a bit dumbfounded. “Did the meeting blow over?”

“Nope, meeting went actually well. Rick’s reasonable enough, Ezekiel and I are basically besties, Maggie still hates me but is a very practical person. So after hours of talking and talking and more talking we came to the agreement that they want nothing besides something we can easily spare.”

“Which is?” he asked slowly.

“Manpower,” he still didn’t look convinced.

“And what do we get?” Emma rolled on her back and looked at him amused. “Seeds, seedlings, produce, expertise, the moral high ground.”

“Ok, seriously it’s six in the morning. I need more context,” Emma chuckled.

“Well, turns out being the only person in charge on that table who hasn’t a fuckton of dead human beings on her conscious, well maybe except for the King, but not for a lack of trying, kind of put me into the position to passive-aggressively hammer the little nagging thought inside their thick heads that maybe 298 lives and everything they took from the stashes is more than enough to compensate for a couple months worth of produce and some guns,” and she heavily blamed everything the Saviors did before on Negan, hell most of it happened when she wasn’t even in the picture, so she had every right to do this. “And I played the you know me and I never lied to you card so I talked them out of that stupid proposition to disarm us. We are not Nazi Germany, we fucking need those guns,” Simon looked impressed.

“That didn’t sound so bad. Jesus, you are good at that stuff, you weren’t lying about that,” she gave him a look.

“Of course not. They probably will go home and in a couple of days they realize that I fucked them over a little there, but a deal is a deal. Rule number three, use their emotions against them,” she said pleased with herself. Simon smiled down at her softly.

“What’s rule number one and two?”

“Read the people right and if you have to lie stay as close to the truth as possible. There’s a whole handbook, don’t worry, I teach you. We’ll make a conman out of you yet,” she chuckled. “But anyway. I thought about reaching out nonetheless, show them our good intent. Thought about eggs, pickled vegetables, they are technically the Hilltops and the Kingdoms anyway, meds, and some ammo.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Why they need our people anyway?” Emma rubbed her face.

“Well, Maggie has some book. Don’t ask me where she got it, but she didn’t have it before, maybe it lay around in one of that bookshelves at the Hilltop, full of construction plans and sketches of old-timey industrial setups and machinery, like water mills and stuff. None of them can read the plans properly, and I know we happen to have a bunch of contractors, architects, and engineers running around that place, so I thought we help them and later they help us,” Simon stared down on her with a thoughtful frown.

“Damn, that all sound like this could actually work out at the end,” he said softly. Then he dropped on his back as well and they both looked at the ceiling while the room got brighter and brighter by the minute. In short 15 minutes, the alarm would go off and they would go back to another day full of faking till making it.

“Anything bad happened here?” they didn’t only need to deal with the other communities, they had enough tension inside of the Sanctuary, too, but now after three weeks without Negan, it had calmed down a bit. Simon sighed.

“No, all good. Considering. Although everything is way tenser when you are not around for some reason. Gary and his guys are still guarding the armory and the pantries like hawks. Some of them still want to leave, but Laura kind of talked them out of it for now. A we all need to stick together, and it has to get worse before it gets better speech. I was almost impressed. But overall everyone behaves. It helps that I work them like horses,” Simon said solemnly.

“That’s my man. How are Amber and Michaela?” Simon hummed before he answered. None of them had been aware of how bad of a drinking habit the wives actually had developed. That these two went into full-on cold withdrawal and they had no doctor at hand had kind of opened their eyes forcefully. Frankie seemed to have it, obviously she used to have a mother who had been more drunk than sober, otherwise, none of them would have known what to do.

“Amber still got the shakes, Michaela is fine. Still depressed, though. We need to talk at some point where to put them. None of them despite Tanya has useful skills and they will have a hard stand around everyone else.”

“I see, I handle it.”

“In its own way this is way scarier than anything Negan and I did. We were just like do what we say or we kill you, period. Now? There are just so many uncertainties, people, possibilities, so much to worry,” he said softly after some minutes. Emma searched and found his hand and intertwined their fingers. He looked over at her. “You really think that this will work out?”

“Yeah, I do,” she said with a smile. “And if not? Well, at least we are in it together.”

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's it, folks. Hope you enjoyed it. Don't forget to kudos the shit out of that story.


	32. Emma Montgomery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Art by TenseKittenBrawler. Thanks my gal!! You rock!!

**Author's Note:**

> Considering that maybe only 4 months have passed in the show between the prison and all out war I stretched the timeline a bit ( a lot) to make more sense.
> 
> You might get the impression in here that Negan owns more communities than Hilltop, Alexandria, the Kingdom, and in my head canon there are more. They don't play any role for this fic, though, they are merely mentioned. 
> 
> Negan is aware of the Scavengers, the Saviors just don't deal with them.


End file.
